BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!

      An anguished young Poogle named Cylarn held his goopy paw out toward the lab ray scientist, who shrunk to the volume of his voice.

      "Listen, yes, of course, I know," responded the lab ray scientist, quivering at the knees, "Surely it's possible! I think... I could swear I'd... I'm very sorry sir, very sorry indeed, but you must understand! This is a work in progress! And I think, after today, I should have it figured out! It's all in the congrillon-mungator apparatus, yes, I should have known it sooner. Yes, come back tomorrow!"

      "I'll figure it out on my own, and then I'll destroy your hooblie-what's-it apparatus! It's as terrible as your breath! When did you bathe last? Well, anyhow. I've got to run myself under warm water; I can't bear all this mucus. You should see a doctor. You're completely mad!"

      "Couldn't you just buy the paint brush?" the doctor implored.

      "I haven't got the neopoints, or an internet connection fast enough to restock! Take a bath!"

      The Poogle stormed out of the room, jumped in his ship, and rowed home. He washed himself and fell slowly asleep. He hadn't been asleep two hours when he dreamt up a plan. He awoke in the night. "So I'll never be cute and plushie. That's quite alright..."

      He left his bed unmade and crept out of his neohome. Outside, he gave a sleepy Lenny a few hundred neopoints to fly him to the trading post. On arriving, he inquired about a certain plushie. "How much are Plushie Poogle Plushies going for nowadays?"

      The faerie was shocked to have a visitor at such an hour.

      "Just about four hundred thousand neopoints, mister."

      "Four? Four hundred thousand!? Why, it's a child's toy!"

      "I'm sorry, mister. I don't make the prices."

      "No matter!" shouted the Poogle. "I'll just have to make do."

      With that, the Lenny flew him back to the bank where he withdrew the last of his cash. Then he opened up his safety deposit box and removed absolutely everything. He gathered about 10 of every codestone, 20 dubloons, and a great deal of neggs. He took them immediately to the shop wizard, who was sleeping in his bed just a block away. Cylarn pounded on the door.

      "Excuse me! I need to sell these things as soon as possible, please!"

      "Of course, sir," said the wizard, opening the door with squinted eyes. "Are you feeling okay? You look just a bit under the weather, and it's the middle of the-"

      "I'm fine, wizard! Sell my things! I demand it!"

      "Yes, of course."

      The wizard first asked Cylarn to scratch his back. "Just there, no, to the right! Yes, almost! Ah, there. Much obliged, Poogle." He then sold the Poogle's things in a remarkably short amount of time. "A nap might do you some good!" the wizard said to him. The Poogle, who might very well have been offended at the remark, must not have heard, for he scarcely blinked an eye as he grabbed up his neopoints and left.

      With enough money to buy the plushie, Cylarn ran back toward his Lenny friend. Only he couldn't be awoken; he was a very heavy sleeper, to say the least, and what's more, in the midst of a very heavy sleep. Cylarn simply ran as fast as he could back to the trading post.

      He arrived at the Trading Post once more, though this time he had to lie down a few minutes to regain his strength. When he did, he leapt up at the faerie.

      "Faerie! Faerie, I have your four hundred thousand neopoints right here! Let me have my plushie!" The faerie, startled, flew high into the air.

      "A good thing Poogles remain without the ability to fly, eh? Ha-ha! Why, I'm certain you've gone mad! I've not once encountered, in all my nights here at the trading post, a neopet with the ambition (if I should even call it ambition) to travel across Neopia twice in one night, for a mere "child's toy," as you so put it yourself! In the middle of the night! Madness, I say."

      "Faerie, please! I am not mad, I am just in a sort of hurry! I must have my plushie as soon as you can get it to me. Please, I beg! Oh please!"

      The faerie was taken aback by the Poogle's sincere desperation, and decided she'd make no further comments. "As you wish, Poogle." She placed his neopoints and a Headless Von Roo Plushie up as an offer for a Plushie Poogle Plushie. "Now, Poogle, it is a waiting game."

      The Poogle tore off running into small circles, impatient and excited. He ran around and around for almost an hour, while the faerie watched and laughed.

      "Poogle. Your plushie. The offer was accepted fifteen minutes ago, I just love to watch you dizzy yourself. I apologize. Enjoy!"

      She handed him the plushie, and he took it with his mouth, so overwhelmed with excitement that he fell on his back, smiling and wiggling his paws in the air. "Priceless! Oh, what fun! I should have given you the plushie sooner; I've never before seen a creature display such joy! You're quite a curious character, aren't you, Poogle? Come back soon, please do!"

      Under the rising sun, he took his ship back to the laboratory. Sneaking quietly through the back door, he dropped the plushie under the ray. The scientist came around the corner yawning, still dressed in his Dr. Sloth footie pajamas. Laying eyes on the events taking place, he stopped cold.

      "NOOOOOOOO! YOU MUSTN'T! IT'S NOT COMPLETE, I TOLD YOU! YOU MUSTN'T! YOU'VE GONE ENTIRELY MAD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"

      "I believe, scientist, that I've gone entirely sane! Lack of sleep works wonders for the intellect! I'd think you a man of little sleep, but I suppose now I know different." He chuckled, examining the Zafara's pajamas. "I'm going to bring him to life! He shall become my best friend, and he'll be everything I always wished to be..."

      The scientist opened his mouth, but before he could manage a single word, the Poogle laughed and slammed his foot down on a big red button labeled 'big red button'.

      BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!

      A bright white light illuminated the room. Neither the scientist nor Cylarn could see anything for many seconds. Cylarn blinked his eyes, and finally able to see somewhat clearly, saw that the plushie had disappeared. He sniffed around under the large machine, in precisely the spot where he'd placed the plushie, then plopped pitifully onto the hard earthy floor. "Oh, bother," he muttered, "what a dreadful waste. Why hadn't I listened to you, scientist? Perhaps you aren't as mad as I once thought. Perhaps you were right; perhaps I am the one who has lost it." He frowned. All was silent for a few seconds.

      "I always knew this day would come..." whispered the scientist, quaking in terror. "FOOL!" he bellowed, locking himself in his bedroom.

      Confusion washed over the sad young Poogle, that is, until he turned around and traded his frown for the greatest glowing smile Neopia had ever seen. "I knew it would work! I knew it would work!"

      The Plushie Poogle Plushie had become more! He'd matched Cylarn in size, and he jumped around joyously.

      But Cylarn's smiled quickly faded.

      Something was... Off.

      This plushie Poogle, his eyes were red. His eyebrows were scrunched; his grin was composed of what had to have been a hundred sharp little teeth. "Wait!" shrieked Cylarn.

      "HEHEHEHE!"

      A small yellow foot squished the big red button labeled "big red button".

      BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!

      Again, the room lit up.

      When his eyes adjusted once more, Cylarn looked down.

      "SNOT!"

      The hallways echoed Cylarn's boisterous declaration.

      "AAAUUUUUGGGHHHHHH!"

      The MSPP cackled, and danced out of the house.

The End