You adopt a fluffy pony out of peer pressure. After a quick visit to the old bio lab you used to work for, you get a nice pony and seems to love its new home. You were instrumental in the design and creation of fluffies. However, your coworkers decided the fluffies were going to be cuter than the canon ponies of MLP. Asshats. Because of them you switched over to rocket science and here you are. Anyway, the fluffy loves its new home. In fact it loves everything: you, the house, the carpet. It's disgusting. Oh well. You lay down on the couch and watch the little thing do its thing. Kind of cute, and eventually you get onto the floor and play with it. It wants to play hide and seek but it just hides behind its hooves which is kind of stupid but what can you expect? You poke its back and say "found you!" and it starts laughing hysterically like it's having the most fun ever. How precious. So precious, in fact that you gag a little bit. Your phone suddenly beeps and it's a text from your coworker asking about that project you two are working on. You're building an Inter-Continental Ballistic Missile capable of delivering spaghetti to all the fluffy shelters world-wide. You're such good a good samaritan for wanting to feed fluffies even though you don't particularly like them. Anyway, the ICBM is almost finished-you just have to replace all the nuclear warheads you put on it to make it look "complete" while you finished the spaghetti canisters. Your fluffy comes over to see what your phone's all about and you give it a crash-course in cellular telecommunications. It drools a little and you assume it understands. Pop quiz tomorrow. You get your laptop and get ready to remove the nukes from the ICBM but your fluffy climbs up onto the couch next to you. It watches you type away on your keyboard as you put in commands, and it tries to copy your actions. However it accidentally punches in the launch code and the missile fire off. The computer auto-sets targets and they are all the capital cities of the world, one of which you live in. As you are incinerated in the 1/1000th force of a sun, you realize that Armageddon is almost all your fault. Way to go.