A fairly large Guilmon plods in through his respective door to a rust-caked room. The droning voice commands him to sit down, apparently on the misplaced beanbag chair. Reluctantly, he places his ankles into the adjacent stocks.
"Hello, Guilmon. I want to play a game. You are, by far, the most ticklish of all Digimon. Instead of the blessing which that is, you see only a curse. The machine your feet are in will tickle you, very gently, for the next nine hours."
At those words, he flinches and begins to squirm. A single, poofy feather has begun to swipe at his sole. Guilmon struggles, ever so cutely, to hold in his giggling.
"I suggest you use the control panel at your side to speed up the process, although the intensity will increase as well. The choice is yours."
Guilmon has begun to whine at the gentle, maniacal feather crawling along his thick feet.
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