I already knew that his place was pretty much built just for mentally deranged kids, but I never expected that there would be ones who were utterly addicted to anything cute.
Like as in, to the point of which they permanently latch onto said "cute" thing and need to be pried off using a crowbar. And apparently, I'm one of those "cute" things. Why? Because apparently, even though I haven't taken a bath or shower or anything in a few days, my greasy mane is still, to them, the fluffiest thing in existence.
So yeah, there's that. And the fact that I've somehow managed to type this from the other side of my room since all the kids here would swarm to my tablet if they saw it. And probably also counting how I'm currently a walking ball of children.
Anyways, I'd better stop now before someone notices the floating tablet behind the closet door.
And I thought this was a hospital. Turns out it's leaning a bit closer to the insane asylum sort of facility. I'm only here to help comfort children, not to become a living snowball of them. I hope they arrive with the crowbar soon. It's really tiring to walk around with three times your own weight clinging to your back.
Okay, good. The crowbar-man's here. Obviously, these are human children that he's working with, so the crowbar's more along the line of 'fluffy foam poking stick'. It still apparently does the job well though, with the kids immediately jumping off from the tickling effect of the fake fur on the stick.
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Aaaand someone's found my tab908y2oh1oiyhwfe09246gn
REMOTE SHUTDOWN INITIALIZED.