Lying in the apron pocket, you hear the sound of a door creak open, and you are suddenly met with the cacophonous noise of toddler-aged titans running rampant through the room, a terrifying and even physically painful reminder of just where you are. Your owner's fingertips mash around you with brutal force,and you are hoisted out of the soft confines of her apron pocket, flung into the world The first thing you see, as your owner's fingers come to a halt, is an pair of enormous windows, each practically spanning the height of the room. You look out through them, at the idyllic outside world. A paved road, a whitewashed fence perched upon by a wild Spearow...a ten year old boy biking down the path, swiftly zipping from one end of your vision to the other. This ironic glimpse of the simplicity of life in the normal sized world makes your predicament all the more painful.
You then turn your attention to the interior of the daycare, which will likely be your world for the time being. A table supporting a set of colorful arts and crafts supplies lies just beneath the humongous windows. Bright green wallpaper lines the walls, a cartoony alphabet banner hanging just beneath the white plaster ceiling. Craning your neck to the right, you see a low-height mesh walled crib, another positioned just beside it. To your left, you see an enormous diaper-changing table, complete with multiple shelves and a nearby diaper pail. Throughout the room, various cute decals are positioned on the walls,and some paper ornaments even hang from the ceiling!
Your inspection of the room is interrupted by the shifting of the daycare worker's fingers. You're briefly flipped around, your body staring at a flowery dress before her fingers clasp up into a fist, trapping you in the darkness. The air smells of sweat and salad dressing. The shouting and pounding of the Pokemon children seems louder than ever,and your body is overwhelmed with the force of the gripping hand and the vertigo induced by its motions. About a minute later, the woman's fingers part oh so slightly, just enough to give you a chance to glimpse the outside world. You see what appears to be a tan carpet floor,a Ken doll with a head chewed up beyond recognition lying upon it. It appears to be wearing a pink Barbie dress, an ominous brown smear besmirches its right arm-the only arm it has left- and its chest is scorched black. As you examine it, you hear the sound of the BOOMing footsteps of one of the Pokemon drawing closer to you. You see a fuzzy yellow paw come down right for it, gripping it and swiftly yanking it out of your view. Your owner chuckles warmly. "Oh Pichu. You all can be so rough on your toys, but I wouldn't have it any other way!
Moments later, the woman sets you down atop an enormous set of cubbies. She looks at you briefly,smiling, examining your motions.Attempting to communicate with her, you earn nothing more than a dismissive response. "Oh. The little ones are going to love you SO much. You sigh and turn towards the daycare, to see the opposition.
Three pokemon appear to be playing. The Pichu from before is running about,smashing the Ken doll's messed up face against the edge of the arts and crafts table. A streak of drool trails down from his mouth and onto his pudgy , fuzzy belly, cutting off just above the waistband of his diaper. His diaper appears to depict a grinning cartoon car. Seeing the cartoon car, you grimly wonder if Pichu will wind up running you over, mashing you into 'roadkill' beneath his paws.
A Clefairy sits nearby, quite close to the cubbies. This Pokemon, clearly the oldest at the daycare, but still not old enough to be potty trained, appears to be playing with a pink dollhouse,using a massive hairbrush to come over the hair of a doll roughly twice your height. She occasionally rips out a few of the doll's hairs, for what purpose you cannot imagine. She's wearing a pink diaper featuring a cartoon princess in a flowing dress, though, curiously, her owner seems to have thought it would be appropriate to strap little butterflies along the waistband...still alive, their wings weakly wavering. Curiously, a 2-foot wide translucent plastic dome sits beside the dollhouse, a doll lying beneath it,coated in a thick sheet of ice.
Finally, an Axew is playing around on a playmat in the corner of the room. It appears to be a model town. Toy cars and very simplistic looking model humans are scattered about atop the playset. Axew smashes his paw down on one of the little cars, cackling gleefully. Its tusks are a frightful sight to behold. They are massive, sturdy, and sharp. Worse, however, is the fact that a model human toy has been impaled onto each of its tusks. Their plastic faces remain static, stuck in a smile...but you know well that you'd be screaming for your life if you were in that situation. It becomes evident that no matter who you are handed off to, you will likely find yourself in a life-or-death game,at the mercy of a deadly pokemon cub.
Before you can look about any further, you feel your owner's hand grip around you. She has finally made her decision.
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