A Shocking Plushie Story
Hi. I am a Blue Aisha Plushie that can be found at the Plushie Palace. I actually call it a different name which I'll tell you later, but you wouldn't get it if I told you at this point in my story. Right now, I bet that you are thinking, "Well, what do I want to hear from you? You're only a plushie. Why am I even asking a question of something squishy and inanimate?"
That's where you're wrong. Well, you'd probably be half right, but that's not the point. Plushies aren't inanimate. They're actually alive, with a heartbeat and air in their seemingly nonexistent lungs. The reason nobody can feel those elements of life is because the breath and heartbeat are so faint, they're practically not there.
I'm going to tell you the sad and miserable story of Plushies, those poor toys that everyone just throws around without a second thought. Wait, no. I said that wrong. Plushies are those poor toys that ALMOST everyone throws around without a second thought. The several scattered people who actually know the truth about us are too afraid to do anything. But I stray from the main idea, so I'll stop ranting about people who know about the plushies. For now. Are you ready for the shocking news? If you aren't, too bad. I'm telling this story anyway.
When Neopia was first created, Plushies didn't exist. All that existed were a few trees, some grass, and a few people with Neopets. Unknown to anyone and everyone, one of these seemingly innocent Neopets would start the disaster of Plushies. Why that certain Neopet did not think of just making those other regular toys that there are today, no one shall ever know except for that Cybunny.
So one day, the same yellow Cybunny I was talking about and whom I shall call Cynthia, because it is the first name that comes to mind, thought that there was a total lack of toys in Neopia. Cynthia had been abandoned on the streets long ago (there was no such thing as the pound back then) and had made more than two million Neopoints since. She was very successful in selling things.
Anyway, Cynthia thought there weren't enough toys and therefore tried to make her own dolls and action figures. As she was an atrocious seamstress, the dolls and action figures were a dismal failure. "Why did I even try to do this? I'll never be able to make something good by paw! Why did I try at all?" Cynthia thought.
While she was trying to figure out why she had attempted to make these... things, another thought came to her mind. "Why don't I make stuffed Neopets and call them plushies?" Once again, Cynthia tried to make the plushies by paw, but this attempt also ended in failure. This failure was in the form of shapeless pieces of cloth and stuffing that were so unidentifiable, Cynthia herself couldn't tell what species they were supposed to be.
At this point, an evil thought crossed her mind, one that would bring some Neopets endless joy, and others endless despair. "I know," she thought to herself. "I'll take some of those less worthy pets and some of those less fortunate pets, and turn them into Plushies! It's a brilliant idea! I'll start now." Cynthia never thought that some of those "less worthy" pets might have owners who would miss them, so that is why this thought was so cruel.*
After two months of building and buying, Cynthia was ready to carry out her hideous scheme, even though she only had about one thousand Neopoints after all of this construction. The shopkeepers who had sold the items had no idea that they were contributing to an evil scheme, more evil than Sloth and Jhudora combined. At least, that's what we Plushies think.
Cynthia adopted and petnapped some poor Neopets, and brought them to a secret underground addition to her vast Neohome. No one, not even her Snowbunny Syndi, knew of it except for herself. She had built this lab ever since she had been able to afford it, and the original purpose was to get back at her owner by making something that would shock him. She hasn't made it yet, and never will because she is too busy with her Plushie making.
In the past two months, Cynthia had been building and perfecting a machine, a machine that would paralyze a Neopet, then slowly turn its skin into cloth and soften the bones and muscles into stuffing. Every Neopet that Cynthia had under her control was turned into a Plushie, unable to speak or move, only able to breathe and live. The vile Cybunny had even thought to make us immune to hunger, dehydration, and the need to sleep.
As anyone would expect, the '"stuffed Neopets" were such a big hit, some innocent Neopians became broke buying them. Some Neopians even bought the same Neopets that had been petnapped from them, never hearing the silent pleas of their poor pet to realize that the plushie they were holding was the very pet that had been stolen from them only a day ago.
I, as well as many others, was zapped by her beastly ray a long time ago, but I am lucky in both bad and good ways. Her machine had malfunctioned. Not enough to be unable to work at all, but just enough so that I can move and speak. Enough so that I can write this story. I do not know how many other Plushies have this ability, because this is the kind of thing that Plushies keep secret from one another. You know that the secret is big when you don't even tell any others of your own kind. Of course, if I won't talk to them, then they will not know.
However, as a result of this blessing of being able to talk and move, every Neopet I have talked to throws me to the Money Tree saying I'm evil. Cynthia is always on the lookout for some plushies to be taken for free, so this is my eleventh time in the Plushie Palace. I don't know how that fiendish, blond, yellow, pigtailed Cybunny can repair me each and every time she finds me at the Money Tree. I wish she wouldn't repair me so that I could just live a Plushie life in peace. I've been taken so many times, sometimes I think she recognizes me. It might just be my paranoia, though.
I'm getting tired of the Plushie Palace, as my stays with the Neopets who buy me never keep me for more than a day. Actually, I call that horrendous store the Plushie Prison. There, now you know what I call the so-called wonderful Plushie Palace.
So here we are today, the toy that any old Neopet wants. A Plushie. Every Plushie in the prison hopes with all of their silently beating hearts that some Faerie will realize the problem and we will all be free. Not just any Faerie either. Nope, every plushie's dream is for Fyora herself to come and rescue us from this horrible fate. No plushie I know has ever had this dream come true, though. If this dream did come true, I would once again be a Blue Aisha with an owner, not the stuffed likeness of a Blue Aisha. The millions of plushies all over Neopia wish without hope that Fyora will one day save us.
Cynthia eventually moved her shop from the Bazaar to the Plaza, as she got too many customers for her miniscule shop in the Neopian Bazaar. Guess who also came up with the idea of the Plushie Paintbrush? Correct. It was Cynthia, the blonde, yellow Cybunny who has adopted countless Neopets, turning each and every one of them into Plushies with her nightmarish machine.
You can now find this fiend in Cybunny form at the Plushie Palace, pretending that her plushies weren't once living, moving, Neopets. All of the people who know about this atrocity know that those living plushies would give her the beating of her life if only they could move.
At least Cynthia isn't entirely cruel, though. Some of her plushies aren't living things. Since she couldn't afford all of those pets, a few of the plushies were actually machine-made on her order.
Do you have a Plushie? Find out if it is machine-made or if it is actually a living Neopet that is staring at you with hopeful eyes, hopeful that you will realize this dilemma and stop it. Just look deep into its eyes. A Neopet will have longing and sadness in its eyes. A stuffed toy will give you a blank look, seeming to beg you to throw it around.
If you do happen to have a Neopet that has been turned into a Plushie, tell Fyora. Just don't do it without proof, or she'll throw you in her dungeon. Or worse, the Chocolate Factory.