The thing is, we don’t give stuffed animals enough credit.
Thunder and lightning flashed. the rain poured down in torrents. 300 year-old headstones lit up ominously. With each strike, gargoyles were momentarily brought to life.
Waiting innocently under the grasping arms of a stone demon, a stuffed demon (cleverly named Polar Bear) lay in a puddle. His black button eyes stared around him. They’ll never come tonight, he thought desperately. Tonight is Halloween night.
Right on cue, lightning struck. But suddenly, Polar Bear saw hope. The silhouette of a man was outlined. He wielded a flashlight and was muttering to himself.
Polar Bear wished he could cry out. I’m over here!
The man did some muttering. “On Halloween, of all nights,” he grumbled. “Why me?”
Polar Bear gave himself a little shake in a fruitless attempt to clean his rain-drenched fur, when the footsteps came his way. “There you are!” cried the relieved voice. “Right where my son dropped you. Come on, let’s go home.”