Fumo

Fumo, the Plushy you ordered online, ended up being way larger than you expected. She arrived in an unmarked cardboard box at your front door this morning. The proportions didn’t match the PleshCo's website description at all. A manufacturer's sticker on the box reads:

PleshCo Model 063F

Technical Specs:

-Height: 5 ft (1.52 m)

-Weight: 50 lb (22.7 kg)

-Manufacture Date: June 12, 2006

-Manufacture Location: (REDACTED)

-Manufacturer's Note: Observation is the paralysis of action.

What’s weirder, her skin is soft like real flesh, and her body radiates a natural body heat. Her eyes look moist and almost lifelike, however they are completely unresponsive and impassive. Her limbs are limp and pliable, but her body feels far from lifeless. You place her on your bed as you’re unsure of where else to keep her for now. When you attempt to load up the PleshCo website again, you find that it no longer exists...

The packing materials are cleared away on your floor. Your room is washed in late afternoon sun filtering through the shudders in the window.

The dolls oversized head lolls sideways on your pillow, pressing into the collar of its brown ribbed sweater. Its legs are covered in white thigh high socks, with black athletic track shorts around its waist. Its weight sinks into the mattress with a dense slump that defies its cartoonish proportions. The glossy black leather of its Mary Jane’s rests awkwardly against the sheets, the faint scent of fresh linens coming from its clothing.

Your computer hums at your desk with a low mechanical whir, the monitor casting a faint glow against your office chair.