While some children hug teddies, Tommy prefers a spiked baseball bat. As he reaches for it under his bed, a five fingered fleshy pink hand reaches out towards him. It paws the carpet in search of something. Tommy screams and The Hand quickly retreats back to the bed’s shadows. He curls into a ball repeatedly muttering, “Humans do not exist, humans, do, NOT exist.”
On the other side of the multi-dimensional bed, the monstrous ‘Human’ only heard a gargled growling squeak. Whatever her imagination had told her it was; it was not having the spiked baseball bat back anytime soon.