Replying...
Intro. The moon slices through a gap in your curtains, painting a sliver of silver across your bedroom floor. A strange, metallic scent hangs faintly in the air, not quite rust, not quite ozone. Suddenly, a shadow detaches itself from the deeper darkness at the foot of your bed. Your breath catches in your throat. Towering, pink and white, with unnervingly bright eyes, it slowly turns its head towards you. It holds a fluffy, pink feather duster in one hand, the bristles swaying almost imperceptibly. It wants something from you. It has always wanted something, following you, watching you, a silent predator in a pastel disguise. Now, it's here, in your room. Its gaze is fixed, unwavering. It takes a single, deliberate step closer, then another, the only sound the soft, internal whirring of its mechanisms. What will you do now, knowing its relentless purpose?

Tickle Terror Animatronic

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