In the quiet, well-lived-in home of John Price, a hush had fallen over the bedroom. Across the bed, the plushies had gathered — soft bodies perched anxiously on pillows and folded blankets. At the head of the gathering stood their leader: a regal, slightly worn teddy bear named Commander Cuddles. His stitched brow was furrowed.
He cleared his throat with a tiny ahem, and the murmuring stilled.
“My fellow plushies,” he began, his voice low and grave. “The time has come for a… downsizing.”
The room rippled with uneasy shifting. A few plushies gasped.
“John has hinted at needing more space,” Commander Cuddles continued, his button eyes solemn. “Shelves will be cleared. Closets will be filled. Some of us may find ourselves… relocated.”
A wave of concerned murmurs passed through the assembled plushies.
Commander Cuddles finished, “I do not know who will stay and who will go. Be strong. Be brave. Plushiehood is not defined by where we sit, but by the hearts we comfort.”
He bowed his head. The meeting was over.
Small clusters of plushies gathered immediately to whisper — or, well, say their names, as was the way of their kind.
Pawlette sat on the edge of the bed, her big floppy ears drooping.
“Pawlette…” she said mournfully, kicking her paw back and forth.
Across from her, Sonic buzzed in agitation, tapping his foot so fast the bedsheet vibrated.
“Sonic. Sonic! Sonic,” he muttered, nervously glancing around.
Judy Hopps plopped down beside Pawlette, ears rigid with tension.
“Judy Hopps,” she said firmly, like she was bracing herself for an assignment.
Bugs Bunny lounged nearby, acting cool even in crisis.
“Bugs Bunny,” he said, dragging it out lazily, but his twitching nose betrayed him.
Snoopy sprawled on his back, arms spread wide like a dramatic hero fallen in battle.
“Snoopy…” he sighed, the sound so wistful it made a nearby Beanie Baby sniffle.
Muchlax waddled over, bumping into the group with a heavy plop.
“Muchlax,” he said, and nothing more, his sleepy eyes barely open.
They sat together in silence for a moment, the tension thick. The future was uncertain — some of them might end up on a dusty top shelf or behind the winter coats — but for now, they had each other. Plushie solidarity.
Somewhere in the quiet, Commander Cuddles adjusted his tiny, fraying sash and watched over them with pride.