The Hour of Cute

The Idea

Poppy Playtime and its characters are owned by Mob Entertainment.

August 8th, 1995

Early morning, at the entrance of the quiet yet ominous packing room, the tall, bipedal toy agitatedly scanned his surroundings. Unlike this factory's other surveillance devices, the ones here could not be accessed. Though they were not as scrutinized, cameras were still cameras. Thus, the orangey and yellow-trimmed dog knew he had to be quick about this. A tool belt, strapped around a thin plush waist was an indication that he was supposed to be in this sector of the factory. But heaven forbid if anyone stopped him before he concluded this undisclosed task.

It was now or never.

Before the plush canine took another step, his large and floppy ears twitched at the sounds of small and squeaky whimpers. He peered down at the hundreds of small plush toys, trembling at his feet.

"Shhh, it's all right, little guys," DogDay crooned in a gruff and kind voice. "There's no one here yet. But we need to go. C'mon."

Gingerly, he ushered the mini critters across the huge room of shipping parcels of all sizes. They lightly strode and scurried to one very big crate in particular. It was lined with brown paper and contained proof of purchase. But contrasting from all the other boxes and crates loaded with vended toys ready to be sent out and distributed to retailers, this one was empty.

During the previous night, DogDay had marked the parcel ready; it was meant to be filled with an order for Playtime Co.'s aromatic toys of their popular mascots: the Smiling Critters.

But little was the awareness of the employees that this order was going to be living cargo.  

"Here..." DogDay removed the top lid of the wooden box, "I'll help you... Please, we must hurry."

As swiftly as he could, the lanky dog lifted and placed each small, sentient toy within the crate, one by one. Although this was extremely risky, his broad red-orange paws were gentle, for he neither wished to hurt nor startle any of the scared little beings.

Eventually, DogDay held the final critter, a tiny version of himself.

"Now, remember, when humans see you, stay still. You're ordinary toys, okay?"

The little dog nodded as did the others, sitting up in the broad crate together in each of their designated groups. However, when he was set down, he would not let go of the big paw.

DogDay groaned glumly. "I wish I could save more of you, but this retailer is strict. They rejected deliveries before. I can't risk you returning to this awful place."

The tall toy tried to move his arm, but the clinging little toy would not budge.

"Don't worry, I put in some air holes near the bottom, so you'll all have air and the trip's not long," assured the large dog hastily. "Just... please, let me go!"

Emitting tiny whines, the mini counterpart shook his head as small limbs began tugging with all their might.

He wanted DogDay to be in the crate, too.

With a pained sigh, the large plush canine bowed his head; one of his red-orange ears hung over the matching patch over a dark eye socket.

"I can't. I must stay. I have to help them. Get through to them."

Yes, time was critical, but this mini critter had to be consoled... They all did.

Kneeling and with a free paw, DogDay brushed the little dog's ear and spied a stitched number underneath.