The yellow chair rocks back and forth in the soft crunchy snow.

“This is awful, just awful,” it says. “We can’t get in. I want to get in. I want to see Benjy.”

Pony snarls, “You jackass. There is no Benjy”

“No Benjy?” The chair rocks obsessively, trying to sooth itself.

“We’ve been through this,” says a purple dinosaur on black telly. The channel flips and an animated mouse blurts, “Benjy went to the people dump, yellow chair! His owners didn’t want him after he broke! But we’ll show them!”

“How will we get inside?” yellow chair squeaks, rocking even faster.

“Bicycle will distract them,” says plush frog, “and Benjy’s owners will come out and we’ll make sure the only thing they’ll be good for will be the people dump.”

“What if they’re not here? What if they’ve moved?” pops a plastic push-toy filled with brightly-colored plastic balls.

“Then we go down every house on the block,” pony replies with a squeak of rusty and stuck springs, “and every block in town, if that’s what it takes.”