The skin

Rocky was never known for being easy on toys, most of his toys were lucky if they lasted a week. Every time he destroyed something he would ask his parents for a new one to replace it.

"You know rocky, it's getting very expensive buying all those toys all the time, you really need to be more gentle with them!" he dad would always tell him, but Rocky would always ignore him, and give him a 'non response' of

"Yes dad".

It was late, Rocky's parents were discussing what to do about him after he had gone to bed.

"I do have one suggestion, but it's a bit unorthodox", his mother said, as she poured a cup of tea. His father picked up a piece of cheese that was on the plate below him, as he ate it he asked her that she was thinking of.

"We know he likes raccoons.." his father cut her off

"your not suggesting we ask her are you? I know Rocky is destructive, but is turning him into an animal, even one he likes really a fair thing to do to him?". His mother continued,

"Not exactly an animal, and it doesn't have to be permanent. Here is what I'm thinking about." Whispering into his fathers ears she told him the plan, of which he approved.

Rocky got home from school the next day and his parents were both anxiously waiting for him. As he walked in the door, they told him there was a surprise waiting for him. They directed him to the living room, sitting on the couch was a huge stuffed raccoon that was as big was he was. He ran up to it and gave it a big hug, saying

"cool!". "Now remember to be careful with this, it cost a lot of money" his parents said to him.

"don't worry, I'll go easy on it" he responded. As he took it upstairs his parents quietly talked amongst themselves.

"how long do you think it'll take for him to wreck it?" his father asked.

"According to Mrs. Applebee, not long maybe a day or two, the spell works that way".

That night, Rocky awoke feeling strange, the raccoon plush was laying in bred next to him. He had a strange idea in his head that wouldn't go away, he knew he had to act on it as soon as possible. Quietly getting out of bed, he reached into his dresser drawer, and pulled out a knife. Walking over to the plush, me jabbed it, and sliced it down the center. Quickly, he ripped the stuffing out of it, in a very literal sense. Once he had hollowed it out, he examined the inside of it. It was warm inside. He was surprised that the entire thing was accessible from the inside. Getting an interesting idea, he climbed inside it, putting his legs into its legs and his arms into its arms and his head into his head. It felt disturbingly comfortable in there. It took some effort, but he was able to climb back into bed, and lay there in the hollowed out raccoon plush. He slowly fell back asleep.

A couple hours later he was awaken by a strange feeling in his hands. He tried to move them, but he couldn't!

"What's going on?" he said to himself. He was still able to move his arms, but his hands wouldn't respond. He tried to remove himself from the plush, but his hands seemed to be stuck. The feeling started to spread up his arms, and soon they too became immobile. He was very disturbed by how much softer they seemed to feel, they seemed almost plushy in their softness. If he tried really hard he could touch his hands together, but even though he knew that he was pressing his hands together, it felt like he was touching a plush part of his raccoon stuffy.

Shocked into action by this realization he got off his bed and ran towards his bathroom mirror. Even as he did, his chest started to feel very numb. By the time he got there, he couldn’t feel anything below his neck and above his waist. He looked in the mirror and realized one horrible fact. He was fat. His tummy was bulging out horribly…he looked like, well, like an overstuffed plush. That’s when he realized what was happening to him. Somehow the skin was making him into a plush raccoon.

Admittedly he liked coons, but this was ridiculous. The realization of what was happening made him sink to the floor in a sitting position. He could feel his tail sticking out behind him and could also feel it getting very, very solid. Soon after were his legs; his knees vanished and his feet turned into round stumps. Last of all his head was forced to face forward, his cheeks puffed out and his eyes, with a very strange feeling glazed over and looked straight ahead. He sat there motionless, unable to move or speak. Having heard the commotion, his parents walked into the room and saw him sitting there. He tried to speak to tell them what had happened, but he couldn't say anything or do anything. Picking him up, his mother said something that scared him.

"We told you to take better care of this stuffed animal. Maybe spending some time as one will teach you to do so". He wanted to scream or protest or something, but all he could was sit there as his parents took back into his room and put him into his bed. He couldn't move his head, but just out of the corner of his eye he was able to see something strange. The stuffing was still there, laying on his floor. It started to glow, turned into pure energy then grew into the shape of a child. The energy dulled and was replaced with a child standing there in his pajama's. Rocky's parents saw the child.

"You must be Mrs. Johnson's child. I hope you learned your lesson, common lets take you home."

***

A long time had passed, Rocky wasn't sure how long he had been there, an hour, a day or maybe even a week. His mother walked into the room. A little boy walked in and immediately picked Rocky up.

"He's so cute!" the boy exclaimed.

"And he's all yours", Rocky's mother told him. As he was being carried off by the kid, Rocky head ended up pointed in the direct of his mother, her expression said it all, and she wasn't kidding when. The phrase

"Maybe spending some time as one will teach you to do so" continued to play through his head. The kid moved him, so that his head was facing him, and said

"I'm going to love you forever" as he hugged him. Rocky was about to learn a lesson alight, a lesson in life.