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.
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