The Scruff

Bright, sunny skies, a cool breeze and plenty of open land to frolic on. It was the ideal day in the ideal place for the buffalo calves to spend their afternoon playing. They would play games that they were taught while growing up and use their creativity to make up their own new games. Loud giggling filled the desert area as the kids ran around, trying to catch each other.

“You’re never going to get me!” a female calf said, laughing as she ran away from the other buffalo children. As she looked back, she ran into another buffalo at full speed, who looked down at her with a stern expression.

“Little Strongheart, get inside,” he said.

“What? What’s going—”

“NOW!”

Little Strongheart didn’t spend a moment to argue. Her father was never too serious with her unless her safety depended on it, but at the same time, she wanted to know what was going on. She ran into her teepee with her father following close behind.

“Dad, what’s going on?” she asked worriedly.

“I can’t explain right now. Just stay here until it’s safe. I have to go help the other bison. I’ll tell you when you can come back outside.”

Before he could make it out of the teepee, his daughter firmly grabbed onto his leg, holding him with all her might. “But if it’s not safe, I don’t want you going out there!”

“I have to, Little Strongheart. Let me go.” Tears were filling up in her eyes, but knowing the severity of what was probably going on, she let him go. He was one of the strongest bison in the herd, and he was needed more than almost any other buffalo. Still, though, she was beginning to realize that the more times he put himself in danger, the more likely he was to not come home.

A few moments after her father exited the teepee, Little Strongheart poked her head out to see what was going on. There were no longer any children playing outside. Standing not too far away were her father and Chief Thunderhooves. Almost as if on cue, a third buffalo quickly ran to meet the other two. He was the most scrawny buffalo in the herd, but his speed and tactfulness had helped them win several battles in the past.

“So this is going to be a battle…” Little Strongheart said to herself, drifting her gaze sadly to the ground.

“What have you learned, Golden Bird?” Chief Thunderhooves spoke to the third buffalo.

“Y’all don’t even know! That nigga was like a motha f**kin’ giant!”

“Is he close?” the calf’s father asked.

“Heyll yes he is. I’ll give him like 5 minutes before he’s in here bustin’ s**t up.”

“So he’s dangerous, then…” Chief Thunderhooves said with a frown. Golden Bird nodded, sharing the same dismayed expression. “Why, though? What purpose could he possibly have in rampaging our land?”

“S**t if I know.”

“Very well, then.” Chief Thunderhooves exchanged looks between Golden Bird and Little Strongheart’s father. “Golden Bird, Riverfox, I will need the both of you to gather as many bison as you can. You have 5 minutes.”

“Yes, Chief,” the two bison said in unison. With that, they went their separate ways, going to specific teepees, looking for only the most dependable warriors.

Little Strongheart looked around, making sure that nobody would see her as she sneaked out of her teepee and searched for cover. Soon, dozens of bison came charging to the edge of camp, waiting for whatever was coming. The young buffalo calf quietly sneaked into the crowd, making sure she was in a place where her father wouldn’t see her.

“Little Strongheart?” a buffalo beside her mumbled. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m old enough to fight now.”

“Whoa, are you sure? This isn’t going to be like anything we’ve ever dealt with before. We’re not talking about some small ambush here.”

“What exactly is it that has everyone so worked up about?”

Suddenly, the ground began to shake. Out of nowhere, a large human came into view, stomping his feet as he walked. The bison all froze for a moment. It was the most hideous thing any of them had ever seen. It was extremely overweight with a messy neckbeard and a fedora sitting on top of its head. The creature was shirtless, revealing his man boobs and mounds of chest hair.

“Oh, s**t, nigga!” Golden Bird shouted. “It’s the Scruff!”

“CHAAAAAAARGE!” Chief Thunderhooves shouted, and all at once, the bison began to stomp towards the hideous creature.

The first buffalo managed to ram its head into the Scruff. Its horns were angled so that they could attempt to make a dent in the monster’s hairy chest, but to no avail. The Scruff’s neckbeard began to stretch from his chin, taking the form of a large fist. It grabbed the buffalo by the horns and swung it off into the distance and into a nearby mountain. The buffalo then fell to the ground… completely motionless. More bison charged after the creature, but every bull that attempted to even put a scratch on the Scruff or his beard was met with the same fate.

“There’s nothing we can do!” Little Strongheart said to a buffalo that was charging after it. “We have to turn back and run! There’s no way we can stop it!” The bull didn’t listen, though. Instead, he tried rushing past the others, using his anger to push himself harder and faster. He wanted to make this monster pay for invading his land, endanger his family and killing honorable members of his tribe. Sadly, though, the Scruff pulled out his nunchuks from inside his pants, and with one fatal swing, the buffalo fell to his death.

“Chief!” Little Strongheart said to Chief Thunderhooves, who could do nothing but watch as his tribe fell mercilessly to this overgrown, hairy beast.

“Little Strongheart? What are you doing here? Get back to safety!”

“Chief, if we don’t run now, we won’t have anywhere safe to turn to!”

“BWAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!” the Scruff shouted. Little Strongheart and Chief Thunderhooves looked up at the monster. The young calf quivered in fear. “You are not ponies! GTFO!”

The brawny chief buffalo looked down at the calf, realizing how dangerous the situation was, not only for the men, but for the women and children as well. “RETREAT!” Chief Thunderhooves exclaimed. The other bison looked back at their chief and began stampeding in the opposite direction.

“This is my domain!” the Scruff shouted, holding his ground. “Never come back!”

The buffalo began running as far away from camp as they could, stopping only at each teepee to tell their families that it was time to leave. What was once habitable land, full of carefree antics between the bison was now left desolate, other than the bodies of those who gave their lives to protect what they stood for… or those who were killed without even knowing what was going on until it was too late.

The bison made it about a mile away from their camp, set up a fire and began to mourn their losses. There was one, however, that was sifting through the buffalo families, trying to find someone she was looking for.

“Dad?” Little Strongheart called. “Dad, where are you?” There was no answer. She ran from place to place, frantically looking for her father until finally she spotted a familiar face. “Golden Bird! Have you seen my father anywhere?”

“You mean Riverfox?” he asked. Suddenly, his expression fell to sadness, and with that one look, Little Strongheart’s worst nightmares had become a reality. “Listen…”

“No… No no no no no! NO!!!” Golden Bird grimaced as Little Strongheart began to shout at him with tears filling up her eyes. “This can’t be happening! I don’t believe you!” Golden Bird didn’t say a word, doing his best not to make the situation any harder than it needed to be. “I’m going to go looking for him… just to prove to you that he’s OK!”

“Nigga, you ain’t goin’ anywhere!” Golden Bird grabbed hold of Little Strongheart, who immediately tried struggling out of his grip. “Don’t even try runnin’ away now, you hear me? You know I’ll catch up.”

“Then what do you expect me to do? Just go to sleep and accept that my father is dead? He could still be out there! He could be looking for us!”

“Girl, your daddy is dead.” A look of shock completely overtook Little Strongheart’s face. The young calf stood in silence, utterly unable to move a muscle even if she wanted to. “I saw him die along with half my other brothas. Now do y’all think for a second that I’mma let his daughter just go chargin’ off to get raped by some nasty motha f**ka with a neckbeard? Heyll naw!”

Little Strongheart just stood there, completely lost for words. After a few long, awkward moments of silence, however, she finally was able to mutter a few words. “Golden Bird… what exactly was that thing?”

Golden Bird sighed and stomped his hoof into the ground. “Come with me.” The two bison then left camp, walking into the mountainous desert not too far from where they would probably make their new home. Once they found a place where they could talk, Golden Bird sighed and quietly said, “Now, do y’all really wanna get involved in all this?”

“That monster took my father’s life,” Little Strongheart said fiercely. “Do you honestly think that I’m about to sit here and go on with life like it never happened?”

“Well… We don’t know what it is.” The calf’s heart sunk. Her hopes of taking this monster down now seemed much less likely than she had previously expected. “We call it the Scruff, and all we know about it is that it takes s**t down. If he walks in and finds somethin’ he don’t like, it’s gone. He don’t care. Lately, though, it looks like anything that isn’t pony-related, no matter how beneficial it is to the community, he stomps on like a motha f**ka, and guess what! We ain’t ponies!”

“But that isn’t fair!”

“Life ain’t fair, kid.” Little Strongheart wanted to interject, but deep down, she knew that there was nothing she could do. No matter how free-spirited she felt she was, she knew that trying to fight it would just end up in getting somebody hurt.

“So… what do we do?”

“Nothin’. Now we just keep on goin’ with our lives. He’ll be comin’ back, and when he does, we just gotta hide like we ain’t there. I’m sorry, but you can’t play outside anymore.”

“WHAT?!”

“Wake up, Strongheart! If you wanna live, you do as I say! You got that?” The calf, through gritted teeth, silently bowed her head in defeat. “From now on, me and Chief Thunderhooves are gonna look after you. If you wanna live, y’all are gonna have to lie low… everyone will.” The two bison then looked toward the camp. They could see the faint flicker of a camp fire surrounded by a herd of bison. “He’ll be back soon. Tonight may be the last night we ever have without him.”

And it was.

Years passed from that point, and now Little Strongheart had grown into a teenage buffalo. Although she was only half as tall as the bulls and not even a quarter as thick, she managed to learn how to be quick and stealthy, just like Golden Bird. She now wore a bandana on top of her head just like the warriors wore to symbolize their role as a fighter. Little Strongheart’s headband was a line of purple and white triangles with two feathers in the back… just like her father’s.

***

One sunny afternoon, three calves were coming home from the watering hole. It was one of the few times they were ever allowed to leave their teepee. “I bet I can run faster than both of you!” one of them said to the others. The two other calves began to chase after their friend, all three of them giggling hysterically.

Once they approached the camp, several bison stuck their heads out to see what the commotion was. “Summerwing!” Little Strongheart said running out of her teepee. All three calves looked up at their elder with sudden remorse in their eyes. “What are the three of you doing outside? You know it’s dangerous out here!”

“We were just going to the watering hole,” Summerwing said bashfully.

“No, you were playing! Have you forgotten what happens when you try playing with the Scruff around?” The calf didn’t speak as tears began to fill her eyes. “Now hurry back inside before—”

Suddenly, the ground began to shake. Little Strongheart looked toward the entrance to the camp as the young calves ran back into their teepees. In just moments, Little Strongheart was face to face with the Scruff. “Looks like it’s time for some buffalo pussy!” he said, unlatching his belt. His stomach rolls began to fall down as he pulled down his pants, revealing a soggy, hairy penis.

“You want it?” Little Strongheart said with a smirk, noticing the Scruff begin to lick his lips. “You’re gonna have to catch it first.”

Little Strongheart then dove between his legs and began running outside of camp. The Scruff began chasing after her with full speed, but after a few short strides, he slowed down into a slow walking pace, unable to pick up his own body fat. The Scruff had finally stopped moving and had bent over to catch his breath.

Good, she thought, he’s out of camp. Now just to get back home.

The buffalo then ran towards the Scruff at full speed, jumped over his head and began sprinting towards her tribe. Luckily, the Scruff was too overweight and out of shape to pursue her any further. She would win this time, but he would be back for more later. Next time, he wouldn’t stop until any buffalo vagina in the camp was his.

“Little Strongheart, what were you thinking?” Chief Thunderhooves exclaimed once the young buffalo returned to camp. “You could have been killed!”

“I had to, Chief!” Little Strongheart pleaded. “The Scruff was here at camp. If I didn’t act, he could have killed the children.”

“You could have been killed!”

“And I’m willing to risk that for the herd!”

“Or you could have escorted the children back to their teepees so that nobody would have been in danger!”

“You know, a ‘thank you’ would be nice!”

“Shut the f**k up, both of y’all!” Golden Bird shouted. Both bison turned to Golden Bird, who was staring them both down angrily. “I’m getting too old for this s**t! Now, how ‘bout both of y’all calm the f**k down and get over it. Everyone’s safe, and the Scruff is outta camp. As long as we do what we do every other day, then we’ll be safe.”

“I’m tired of being safe, Golden Bird,” Little Strongheart replied. “I want to be free.”

Golden Bird stood there silently, glaring into the young buffalo’s eyes. He then approached the buffalo slowly, getting in her face as the two stared off fiercely. Then, without any hesitation, Golden Bird raised his hoof and smacked Little Strongheart across the face.

“You wanna be what now?” he asked. Little Strongheart didn’t answer, still caught off guard by the sudden blow (both physical and psychological) that had just hit her. “Do you know much I’ve wished for that? Do you have ANY idea just how many times I’ve woken up, prayin’ that I’d be able to think of some way to get him outta here forever? I had a dream once… I had a dream that I’d be able to stand in front of the herd and say, ‘Free at last! We’re free at last!’”

“All I’m saying is that there might still be some way…” the young buffalo said, losing hope of any possibility of ever being free again.

Chief Thunderhooves walked over and put a hoof on the young buffalo’s back. “I can’t tell you one way or another if we will ever be free again, Little Strongheart. I can tell you this, though.” The two bison looked each other dead in the eyes. “I will not stand another day, watching our children fear the outside world due to some monster.”

“It happened,” Golden Bird said in the background. “He finally went crazy.”

Ignoring the facetious buffalo’s comments, Chief Thunderhooves continued. “Listen, to what I am about to say, young one. It may be the last order I ever give you.” The two other bison’s eyes widened. “Little Strongheart, if I don’t make it out alive, you are going to be the new chief of the herd.”

“What?!” Little Strongheart exclaimed. “Chief, don’t be ridiculous! Whatever you’re thinking about isn’t the right plan. We can still think of other—”

“I’ve made up my mind. By this time tomorrow, either he or I will be gone forever.”

“And just what do you think you can do, huh?!” Golden Bird said, getting in Chief Thunderhooves’s face. “If you got a plan, tell us!”

Chief Thunderhooves then told the other two bison his plan to get rid of the Scruff. The other two tackled the plan with numerous warnings, pleading with him that he forget about it and continue with the life they were living. Chief Thunderhooves, however, did not give in. He held firm to his plan, and reluctantly, the other two gave in, knowing that there was nothing they could do to sway him otherwise.

“It is settled, then,” Chief Thunderhooves said. “By dawn tomorrow, we will have our answer.”

Little Strongheart hugged her chief the way she wished she could have hugged her father before he died. “I really hope you know what you’re doing…”

The three bison then left to tell the other bison in the herd about their chief’s plan and what would become of Little Strongheart if he died. Almost every teepee greeted their leader’s plan with the same reaction: panic. The three bison, however, did not let that waiver them from the words that had sunk into their hearts…

“I will not live another day seeing my family trapped in a tent from dawn until dusk just because they are afraid to walk outside into the daylight. I will not tell another buffalo calf that he or she cannot play in the noonday sun just because there is someone out there who wishes for the world to be different. I will not stand to see someone tell this herd that if they do not behave a certain way, they do not believe a certain thing or they do not look a certain way that they will be forced out. We are the bison. We are strong. We will not succumb to the ‘ponies only’ philosophy that the Scruff wishes to force upon the world. We cannot stand up to him with force, but I can stand up to him as the voice of my herd. If anything, let me be a leader. In life or death, I will do whatever I can to make a difference…”

***

It wasn’t long before the sun would rise on that summer morning. Little Strongheart, Golden Bird and Chief Thunderhooves shared a conversation together, knowing that it was the last one that they might have together. Time was growing short, though, and the three bison knew that it was about time.

Chief Thunderhooves walked out of the tent, stood firmly in the middle of the camp and looked upon the horizon. Chief Thunderhooves’s plan was simple: stand out in the open and wait. Once the Scruff saw him, the Chief would stand tall and tell the Scruff to leave. The monster would then either leave or stay. Fate would have to decide the rest.

Minutes seemed like an eternity as Little Strongheart and Golden Bird watched from the fold of their teepee. Suddenly, Little Strongheart made a decision that would affect the rest of her life: she walked outside the tent.

“Nigga, have you gone crazy?” Golden Bird exclaimed as quietly as he could. “Chief can take care of this by himself!”

Little Strongheart turned around and glared at the buffalo bull. “Chief Thunderhooves isn’t going to go through this alone. I know what I’m doing.”

“Oh, do you, now? And just what are we supposed to do if both y’all motha f**kas die?”

“Then I guess you’ll be the new chief.” The young buffalo then stood next to her chief, whose expression suddenly went from fierce to panic. “Don’t worry, Chief. I’m here with you.” Chief Thunderhooves tried to interject, but was immediately cut off by, “After my father died, you were the one who raised me, and you raised me to be brave, just like you. Now we’re going to do this together.”

Chief Thunderhooves smiled for what seemed like the first time in an eternity and returned his gaze back to the horizon. From the teepee, though, Golden Bird looked on, weighing the options of what he was about to do.

“F**k it. Look out, b*tches! Golden Bird is here to represent!”

The other two bison smiled brightly as their friend joined them, standing in a triangle, facing what was about to be the sunrise. Suddenly, almost every teepee was opened slightly with bison peeking out to see their three courageous leaders.

“POOOOONIIIIIEESSSSS!!!!” a voice rang in the background. Almost as if on cue, the sun began to rise and the ground began to shake. The three bison’s hooves trembled, but through the fear and their beating hearts, they stood tall as an ugly creature began to appear over the horizon. Little Strongheart looked at both Chief Thunderhooves and Golden Bird. The three bison exchanged a smile together and looked back up to the monster, who was getting closer by the second.

“Long live the bison!” a voice from behind them rang. Little Strongheart turned around to see Summerwing, a calf, standing tall behind her.

“Summerwing?” Little Strongheart exclaimed. “You need to get back in your tent! Now!”

“Long live the bison!” Little Strongheart looked up to see another buffalo leaving his tent. It was the buffalo that she had talked to the day the Scruff first attacked. He had seen what the monster had done to some of his closest friends and family, and he was always willing to stand up for the herd.

“Long live the bison!” Another buffalo said. Suddenly there were bison coming out of every single teepee in the camp, young and old, bull and heifer, all with one voice shouting, “Long live the bison!” The camp was now filled with every buffalo in the herd, standing tall, ready to live or die as free bison.

The Scruff screamed a horrible screech at the bison that stood before him. “I’m going to ban you all from this land!” it shouted. “Only ponies are allowed here! I gave you enough chances, but now I’m pissed!”

His neckbeard stretched again, making a giant first and raising it above the buffalo. His plan wasn’t to ban them; his plan was to exterminate them. Mothers and children clung to each other for dear life, but hope surged through their bodies again as Chief Thunderhooves stepped forward.

“We are not ponies, but that doesn’t mean we should be exiled for what we are or what we bring to the community. We are not filling your world with scum like you think we’re doing. In fact, we’re doing quite the opposite. We are bringing light to this world that you can’t find anywhere else. We are making a difference, if not in your life then in each other’s lives. If you want to take down one of us, you’ll have to take down all of us, because we are all one race: the bison.”

The Scruff then lifted his neckbeard fist and pounded on his man boobs like Tarzan. The sun went black, and the bison all closed their eyes, waiting for the worst.

Then…

Suddenly, the heavens opened, and another man fell from the sky to the ground like a meteor, landing square on his feet. He wore and elegant white suit with slick brown hair and a face carved by the gods. He looked up and down the scruff and glared at the putrid visage that dared bestow itself before him.

“You mess with the buffalo, you mess with Nicolas Cage!” the man said, grabbing the Scruff by the neck and lifting him into the air. The man then kicked the Scruff in the testicles, killing him instantly. The bison all looked on in total shock at what just happened.

Nicolas Cage turned around to see the faces of the buffalo and smiled. “You ever need anything else, just give me a call,” he said, winking at Little Strongheart. He then jumped into the air and disappeared into the clouds.

Golden Bird was the first to speak.

“Oh, s**t, nigga!”