In which my imagination gets away with me...
Have just read The Velveteen Rabbit, which is one of those read-before-you-die children's classics, on the lines of 'when the toy gets very old, and the fur is all rubbed off, sometimes it becomes Real, and it doesn't mind being ugly or anything because as far as its Owner is concerned it's beautiful'.
And then, after the velveteen rabbit became real, its owner came down with scarlet fever, and all they toys were going to be burned for reasons of hygiene except the rabbit crept out of the bag and ran away...
And I couldn't stop thinking, and then it became a creeping toy rabbit of DISEASE-LADEN DOOM, infecting small children all over the world...
Am a bad person.
'Sgood story. Really.
And then, after the velveteen rabbit became real, its owner came down with scarlet fever, and all they toys were going to be burned for reasons of hygiene except the rabbit crept out of the bag and ran away...
And I couldn't stop thinking, and then it became a creeping toy rabbit of DISEASE-LADEN DOOM, infecting small children all over the world...
Am a bad person.
'Sgood story. Really.