[ WP ] You 're an polymorph . Every day you can change into one creature of your choice , and you remain that way for the next 24 hours . Today you choose a new creature , but somehow change into a stuffed toy version of that creature . Describe the rest of your day .

Something was wrong – this was most certainly not the zoo I was expecting. 
 
 I was someplace dark, musty, packed in, so tightly compacted I could hardly move. Could I have somehow miscalculated? Had my archnemesis, the New York Animal Control Center, somehow tranquilized me again before I was ready to roam this mighty earth, to go where I wished, without a care in the world? 
 
 As it turned out, no, it was worse than that. Far worse. 
 
 I heard voices, then the sound of switches being flipped on. As the harsh light streamed into my enclosure, as the janky, carnival music began its laborious loop, the dreadful, horrible realisation of where I was began to sink in. 
 
 I was in a UFO Catching Machine, in one of the last few arcades surviving in this city. Worse still, I wasn ’ t the lion I had aspired to be, the day before, but a rather fluffy, wholly-unmenacing stuffed lion, with a freaking tag on my tail, proudly proclaiming my name to be Leo. 
 
 Heck, I didn ’ t even have functioning claws. 
 
 I made a mental note to get a check-up tomorrow with Dr Jameson, right after this particularly unfortunate bout of polymorphing comes to an end. That ’ s the deal – 24 hours as an animal of my choice, then back to being a human, then another 24 hours before I could polymorph again. Dr Jameson looked after people like us, people with special abilities, and he would know what the heck went wrong this time. 
 
 Well, things could have been worse. I recalled the time I wanted to be a penguin, just to spend a day queueing up with my buddies, flapping about, but that was before I made any effort to study what my natural predators in the wild would be. Last time I would be making that mistake… 
 
 What! It ain ’ t my fault! I thought that sea-lion was being friendly when he was waving to me! 
 
 The lights in the UFO Catching Machine ratcheted up a notch as I heard the sound of coins clinking down the payment chute. Through the smudged glass, I saw a boy, not more than 12, darkly concentrate as he swung the levers carefully, squinting as he tried to judge the distance to the prizes within… 
 
 Look, I ’ ll give the boy some credit. I ’ ve seen people try this crap a couple of times, then give up entirely. It ’ s rigged, you see. Sometimes the claws catch, sometimes they don ’ t. Sure, your skill ’ s part of the equation, but there ’ s a hidden chance that you ’ ll get nothing at all. It ’ s part of the unspoken deal. 
 
 So five tries later, the boy gets a sad looking octopus. I thought he was done. 
 
 Then, another twenty tries later, the boy has added to his collection, an earthworm and a walrus. Kid, I think, save your money, hop down to the toy store and buy what you want, direct. Don ’ t waste your cash here. 
 
 Fifty, yes, *fifty* tries later, he ’ s acquired a dog, a consolation prize of a pack of tissues, and a giraffe. Instead of getting happier, the kid ’ s getting more frustrated. I ’ ve heard him curse words he should not know, I ’ ve seen him drain the last of the piggy bank he ’ s brought out with him. At some point, I even saw him blink back hot tears of anger, dismay. 
 
 Crap. It hits me like a ton of bricks. 
 
 He ’ s trying, again and again, because he hasn ’ t gotten the prize he wants. 
 
 It seems, he is trying to get me. Well, one of me, since I was one of two lions in this machine. 
 
 The kid runs out of cash then, because I see him empty his pockets. Then, after he looks around, he removes his watch, slowly, deliberately. It ’ s a nice watch, not too fancy, but certainly not one of those cheap Casios you get for little kids. He leaves the booth, totters off to the counter, leaving his unwanted collection by the side. 
 
 When he returns, it ’ s with a pitiful handful of coins. I see the desperation in his eyes, and though I have yet to even learn his name, I feel a modicum of respect for this kid, building right up, welling up inside of my cotton heart. 
 
 This kid ’ s a fighter. 
 
 His efforts pay off, eventually. A couple of tries later, I feel the claws finally catch around my midriff, and I ’ m hoisted and tossed into a chute like a stuffed to- ok you know what I mean. 
 
 He fishes me from the bin, and there ’ s a moment when I ’ m afraid he ’ s going to hug me and just bawl at that point. Jeez, I ’ m all for affection, but there ’ re limits, especially when I ’ m in the form of one of the most ferocious creatures known to man. His hands tremble, and then he ’ s off, sprinting like a gazelle, running out of the arcade, leaving the rest of his spoils behind. 
 
 Damn, I thought, this kid ’ s got a real case of the lion-lovin ’. 
 
 Down the blocks he goes, till he reaches a crummier neighbourhood down the east side. I ’ ve been here before, soaring in the skies as an eagle that time, and I recognise the signs of dilapidation everywhere. It ’ s not a great place to live, but it ’ s all some people ’ s got. 
 
 He slows down when he gets to this particular block, and he buzzes on the intercom, tipping on his toes to reach the buttons. When the line goes through, he clears his throat, then tries his best to sound older than he really is. 
 
 “ Mrs Chenny? I ’ m Bryan, Bryan Gollows, from school. Is Cindy there? Could I speak with her, just a minute, please? Thank you, thank you mam. ” 
 
 He holds me behind his back, with one hand, and if I thought he was trembling earlier, then damn, he ’ s got the Parkinson ’ s real good now. 
 
 The girl who answers the door is much smaller than he is. I can see the sunken eyes, the protruding bones, the ratty clothes. Her eyes are bloodshot too, cheeks still stained with last night ’ s tears. 
 
 “ What do you want, Bryan. Are you here to laugh at me again? ” 
 
 “ No, no, Cindy… I came… I came to apologize. ” 
 
 “ Yeah? Well you can keep it. Your apology means nothing to me. ” 
 
 “ Look… I should have said something, done something. I didn ’ t know the other kids were going to tear up your lion, I swear! We was just… just jostling about, you know? ” 
 
 “ I told you, he was old! Leopold was something my cousins passed down to me! I ’ ve stitched him back a hundred times, and he ’ s all I ’ ve got! And yet you all had to throw him around, pull on him between you… I can ’ t repair him anymore, I ’ ve tried! He ’ s gone, do you understand? How ’ s your apology going to fix that? ” 
 
 She ’ s screaming at this point, the frustration and disappointment lacing every word. There ’ s strong undertones of loss, which I think Bryan understands. 
 
 He holds me out then, and she immediately quietens. This is not what she expected. 
 
 “ I ’ m really sorry, Cindy, I really am. I know nothing can bring Leopold back, but I ’ ve got a friend here who looks just like him. In fact, I think they ’ re the same, just this one ’ s a bit newer, that ’ s all. I thought about it all last night, I ’ m sorry I didn ’ t stand up for you yesterday. Please, I don ’ t expect you to forgive me, but at the very least, I hope this makes you feel better. ” 
 
 He presses me into her hands, and off he goes again, the gazelle that he is, turning tail and scampering back down the way he ’ s gone. 
 
 Bloody hell, twelve years old and a class-A soldier already. That boy ’ s gon na be chasing some serious tail in a couple more years. 
 
 Cindy looks down at me, and she sobs as she crushes me to her chest, squeezing out all the air in my lungs. She does nothing else for the next five minutes. 
 
 Look, I ’ m happy for the girl, glad that this day ’ s finally looking up for her. But damn, I also could not help but feel the grumpiness start to bubble up in me. 
 
 You know why? 
 
 Cause when the spell wears off, and I polymorph back into a human being tomorrow, guess whose turn it ’ s going to be at the arcade, playing that rip-off machine until he gets another damn Leopold for this sobby little girl? 
 
 Yes, it ’ s going to be me. 
 
 And I better get good quick. I ain ’ t got no Casio to be pawning off. 
 
 -- - 
 
 /r/rarelyfunny
