Stepping from behind the pillow, you walk in front of the cartoonishly pink backpack on the bed and place your hands on your hips. You look up at the majestic tower of the woman, a few years older than yourself but still attractive to your eyes: while her face is clean of make-up, its natural tone and sculpture remains beautiful among the tumbling locks of dark hair. She certainly doesn't seem like the sort of person you'd want to consign to Hell in your place, but she hopefully will help you find someone that is.
"Excuse me, madam," you pipe up, shouting ever so slightly so that the timid voice from your three-inch tall form may carry to this possible salvation. "I require your help, if it's not too much trouble."
There. Nice and polite. The woman's eyes widen as they track around to spot you, but while you're watching them there's a thunderous impact as a shadow looms over you. The girl - with her mother's eyes and smile - beams down at you. She's young, and you're not enough of an expert ot pin it down precisely, but she's definitely not too old to play with dolls.
"How cute!" she squeals, and her hand wraps its fingers around you, irresistible force pressing those jointed pillars around you. You are wrenched from your place and the loud, menacing face grows even bigger as you are brought in for a closer look.
Struggling is futile, but clearly they can hear you. If you can draw a breath through the crushing force constricting your lungs you can plead your case. You are not a toy, you are a human being!
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