Plush Godfather

Gertrude ruled Bed Town with an iron fist, from Pillow Heights, down East and West Side to South Central. Only Cold Foot Flats where even blankets wouldn't go lay outside her dominion. She ran snuggle rackets, engaged in blanket smuggling, temperature fixing, beating pillows who refused to fluff up. She would trade favors for preferential placement on the night light side. If it was underhanded and comfy, she had a hand in it. All the plushies of Bed Town trembled before her and did as she said.

One day, a newcomer, Fluffy Bunbun rolled onto the bed with an eye toward taking the number one snuggle spot. When Gertrude saw him sitting there on the down pillow by the end table lamp, her pillow, she knew she could show no mercy, or else risk losing her once unquestioned control over the bed. In the night, when Suzy, the mayor of Bed Town, was fast asleep, Gertrude sent her boys Teddy and Mrs. Diggles to handle Fluffy Bunbun personally.

Fluffy Bunbun protested as he was torn from Suzy's sleeping arms, but they would not hear his pleas for mercy.

“Tonight, he sleeps under the bed, behind the clothes Suzy hid from her mother,” Gertrude said, her voice as icy as the bottom side of the pillow.

“No!” cried Fluffy Bunbun. “I'll never be seen again!”

“Not until cleaning day, three whole days from now,” chuckled Gertrude. “By then, she will have forgotten how excited she was to get you, and you'll be just another toy. I control cuddle distribution in Bed Town.”

Fluffy Bunbun wanted to protest, but it was too late. He had already fallen to the floor, all but forgotten. Three days? May as well be three years when it came to six year olds.

- Originally mailed to M. Taylor in Seoul, South Korea