So I've been sitting here all alone for the last few days. Ed's been off at work and Kanna has some new rock that she's been talking with (don't ask me what that's about). I've been working on and off on the next character page, being mine, and I figured some people are wondering just what it's like being a plushie...
On the up side, I can smoke all I want and not worry about lung cancer. That is entirely because of the lack of any organs or organics. I still have all of the five senses, but when it comes to eating and drinking I have to limit myself. Too much drink isn't good for me, as I tend to mould if I get too damp. A little bit of food here and there is quite enjoyable, but as I lack a proper esophagus I tend to suffer from Cookie Monster syndrome. When eating big meals I tend to get more on me than in me.
Due to the magic that put me in this body, I can't be burned or shredded. I can have limbs torn off, but luckily I'm pretty good with a needle, so after a while you can't even tell where the rottweiler bit down.
The biggest problem is the lack of pure mass. You can't throw anything bigger than a ball of paper, bowling is out, and if that rottweiler down the hall wants to pack you off and bury you... again... there isn't anything you can do about it except invest in pepper spray and an air horn. That'll teach that stupid Canine!
So, I'm going to taste some desert, and thank whatever is out there that it is impossible for me to get a middle age spread...
ROCCO
