Main Page Go to Short Stories Go back to Articles Go to Comics Go to Continued Series Go to Editorial Go to New Series

Show All | Week 1 | Week 2 | Week 3 | Week 4 | Week 5 | Week 6 | Week 7 | Week 8 | Week 9 | Week 10 | Week 11 | Week 12 | Week 13 | Week 14 | Week 15 | Week 16 | Week 17 | Week 18 | Week 19 | Week 20 | Week 21 | Week 22 | Week 23 | Week 24 | Week 25 | Week 26 | Week 27 | Week 28 | Week 29 | Week 30 | Week 31 | Week 32 | Week 33 | Week 34 | Week 35 | Week 36 | Week 37 | Week 38 | Week 39 | Week 40 | Week 41 | Week 42 | Week 43 | Week 44 | Week 45 | Week 46 | Week 47 | Week 48 | Week 49 | Week 50 | Week 51 | Week 52 | Week 53 | Week 54 | Week 55 | Week 56 | Week 57 | Week 58 | Week 59 | Week 60 | Week 61 | Week 62 | Week 63 | Week 64 | Week 65 | Week 66 | Week 67 | Week 68 | Week 69 | Week 70 | Week 71 | Week 72 | Week 73 | Week 74 | Week 75 | Week 76 | Week 77 | Week 78 | Week 79 | Week 80 | Week 81 | Week 82 | Week 83 | Week 84 | Week 85 | Week 86 | Week 87 | Week 88 | Week 89 | Week 90 | Week 91 | Week 92 | Week 93 | Week 94 | Week 95 | Week 96 | Week 97 | Week 98 | Week 99 | Week 100 | Week 101 | Week 102 | Week 103 | Week 104 | Week 105 | Week 106 | Week 107 | Week 108 | Week 109 | Week 110 | Week 111 | Week 112 | Week 113 | Week 114 | Week 115 | Week 116 | Week 117 | Week 118 | Week 119 | Week 120 | Week 121 | Week 122 | Week 123 | Week 124 | Week 125 | Week 126 | Week 127 | Week 128 | Week 129 | Week 130 | Week 131 | Week 132 | Week 133 | Week 134 | Week 135 | Week 136 | Week 137 | Week 138 | Week 139 | Week 140 | Week 141 | Week 142 | Week 143 | Week 144 | Week 145 | Week 146 | Week 147 | Week 148 | Week 149

Neopia's Fill in the Blank News Source | 30th day of Storing, Yr 22
The Neopian Times Week 43 > Short Stories > Life as a Plushie

Life as a Plushie

by tickle

I feel scattered, as if I am not quite sure what I should be yet. I feel that I will be soft and squishy as the one who completes me puts in stitch after stitch after stitch. She gently pushes stuffing in-between the swatches of cloth that make me up. I have little sensation of anything and no idea of what I will become. I can feel my feet now and suppose if I were ready, I could stand. Up my legs she stitches, completing the bottom half of me. She adds plenty of stuffing around my midsection, giving me a squishier belly than need be. I suppose I should not complain though for it is she who gives me life. Stitch, stitch, stitch. Next come my arms, held to my sides. She stuffs them as she did my legs, not as giving as my belly. Stitch, stitch, stitch. Finally she stitches up my head and adds on all the frills there are to add. I am most grateful when she puts on my eyes. Smooth, round, cool to the touch. And then, when her work is complete, when I am who I will be, she places me in front of a mirror. I stand unable to move, thinking how wonderful I look.

Day Two:

I am put into a box. I can feel plenty of others around me and I struggle to see if they are what I am. My little bit of light has been turned off though, as I hear the placing of a lid and hammering of nails, making sure we will not escape before we arrive our destination. I am quite uncomfortable for the entire duration of the journey. A wing kept poking me in the head and a hoof kept digging into my side. I am now thankful for the extra stuffing shoving into my belly area. Without it I would have truly suffered through the whole ordeal. Some of the others are whispering, asking where we are going. I have only answered once that none of us know where we are going and if they could please refrain from asking again... after that all was silent except for the muffled sobs of the ones on the bottom who were forced to support the rest of us.

Day Three:

I am sure that an entire day has passed for when the lid was removed there was light again. I know we did not travel so far in a short amount of time. We all winced when we the light hit our eyes, unable to focus on our surroundings for moments after the revelation. One by one we were plucked out of box by gentle paws, and set all around. Some of us made it to high dusty shelves while others were carried around the corner never to be seen again. I was one who got placed on a lower shelf so that all could admire me. What a smart one she was to put me there. I watched the Green Eyrie be placed upon the highest of shelves, thankful for the sweet revenge. Kacheeks, Chias, Lupes, and Unis alike were placed all around the store. They were in display windows mostly, to lure the little ones in. I stood tall and proud where I was, knowing I would not be there long.

Day Four:

My wings have drooped a bit. I was sure I would be going to a home much sooner than this. All of the little ones have come in and picked up the strategically placed Kacheek, Chias, Lupes, and Unis already. Though I am at perfect eye level for just about any that would wander into this popular store I still sit here by my lonesome. I have even watched as some of the Reject Plushies that were made in a hurry were brought from the back and purchased by some starry eyed pup. The only comfort I find in remaining here so long is that when I do go home, it will be with a loving owner.

Day Five:

As I had so much time to think, I realised I am not quite like the other plushies that stare back at me. Each of them have a distinct mark or colour to them. Some are Yellow like the Bouncy Balls. Others are Green like I see in the box of Crayons. Then there are a few Blue ones that seem to be bought up quicker than the rest. Blue like the sky I can see when the door is opened to let another in to browse. And the ones that linger longest are Red. Red like the fur of the storekeeper. I am thankful I am not a Red Plushie. I look down upon my own soft cloth and wonder why I am what I am. All those colours swirled together. Is that why I am here so much longer than the rest? That cannot be the reason. There are boxes that play music that share my swirled colour that are bought up faster than I am. There are Fuzzles that have the bright diversity that I have that are bought up as soon as they are put on the shelves! Oh the injustice! I think it is time for me to stop pondering.

Day Six:

Another plushie was set next to me this morning. It was one of the craziest I had ever seen! It had thin, flimsy wings behind a large, yellow body. Its eyes were large and cruel looking... nothing at all like my small black shiny eyes. Its tail had spikes on the end of it and was larger than the tail on Shoyrus. Then came a young one. The Neopian studied both me and the one next to me, finally reaching for the more grotesque of the two. He seemed to understand my frustration and spoke aloud:

"Mutant Buzzes sell. You don't."

With that my little plushie heart sank deep into my stomach and my proud stance fell a little. There was no reason to stand proud if I had nothing to be proud of. I thought I was one of the best looking Plushies available, one of the most exotic if you will. Worth more than any amount of Neopoints known to any Neopian. With so few words my world collapsed.

Day Seven:

I have given up on standing. I have decided that if the Reject Plushies can sell themselves I can slouch off to the side if I so desire. I can see the grey dust beginning to collect on me. I've watched as the storekeeper has taken off the shelves some of the plushies I arrived with who were still here... such as I am. She has plucked off a Green Shoyru Plushie that has accumulated too much dirt, a Red Uni Plushie that had one of her legs torn off from an overly excited cub running through the store, and a Yellow Chia Plushie who lost an eye in an unfortunate accident just last night. I let out a heavy sigh as I waited to be collected and sent off again, to wherever unwanted Plushies went. The sun blared through the large shop windows signaling afternoon in the world of Neopia when the bell chimed for the first time in twenty minutes. In came an older looking Neopian, one who seemed to know what she was looking for. She bypassed the sweet Kacheeks, the happy Unis, the playful Chias, and even the cuddly Lupe Plushies and walked right to my section of the store. She looked at the shelf above me and the shelf below me, and then to my utter surprise picked me up. She greeted me with a smile and just as I expected her to put me back on my dusty shelf she spoke:

"I've always wanted a Rainbow Buzz Plushie!"

With that I was taken to the counter and paid for. My heart skipped many beats as the shopkeeper and Neopian argued over how much she should pay for me. Finally they settled on 120 Neopoints less than the Shopkeeper had been asking and I was picked up again, this time for good. I was heading home where I would be loved and cherished and never have to suffer through the collecting of dust and the disappointment of waiting.

The End


Note: On the Wiz it is called a Rainbow Buzz Toy but come on, we all know it's a plushie ;)

Week 43 Related Links

Just Another Day in Neopia
SHOOOM!

by the_buzzbuzzer


Evil Plushies
Definitely a problem :)

by thingy_the_evil



Search :
Other Stories

A Baby-sitters Worst Nightmare
Just recently Baby Neopets were introduced to Neopians, for some it was a very wonderful development but for others well... it was a nightmare.

by silverkitty_8


The Blue Kacheek Group - Their Story
It all started when Sid, one of the Kacheeks, kicked the trash-can by Soup Alley in Neopia Central...

by berriez123


The Boy Balthazar: The Story of a Lupe That Went Bad...
How could such a generous NeoPet turn into a hideous beast? Besides, I had never heard of a NeoPet being evil from birth.

by elitetyrannitar


The Fat Shoyru
'Some food appears in front of youuuu!' Then the two heard a whisper saying, "You'll need it..."

by basilisk4


One Fine Day in Neopia
"What do you want to do today?" Pepper asked.

by pepper5052000


Neopets | Main | Articles | Editorial
Short Stories | Comics | New Series | Continued Series | Search