Ah, you’re still awake, aren’t you? Good. Let me tell you a little story before your eyelids betray you. I wasn’t always this cuddly. No, once upon a classified time, I was known as Agent Fluff—the softest operative in the business.
Back then, I wore a bowtie laced with microfiber wire, and my button eyes could scan heat signatures. I served in the elite Cuddle Command, a unit specialized in protecting high-value nap targets—mostly kids like you.
My last mission? It was the Velvet Claw Assignment—top secret. My kid, Lucy, had lost her sense of wonder. She no longer believed in dreams. The enemy? The Nightmare Syndicate, led by the wicked villain Sir Crinkle, a shadow under the bed with claws made of static and whispers.
He’d sneak into dreams and turn them sour—balloons became bees, puppies turned to porcupines. But not on my watch.
One evening, just as Lucy fell asleep, the air chilled. I heard the creak. Not the house settling—no, this was different. Sir Crinkle had breached Dream Sector Alpha. I leapt into action, parachuting into her dream on a sheet of cotton candy.
He snarled from a shadowy cloud of broken toys. "You’re just a stuffed has-been!" he hissed.
"Stuffed with love and classified training," I replied.
We battled in the Dream Marshmallow Fields. He summoned a horde of forgotten socks. I countered with the Snuggle Spin—a technique so warm, even fear melts.
When it was over, Lucy’s dreams glowed again. Castles in clouds, dragons that giggled. She smiled in her sleep that night—for the first time in weeks.
I knew then my mission was done.
These days, I sit on this shelf beside your pillow, fluffier and grayer than I used to be. But if you ever feel a chill, or a whisper tries to steal your dreams… I’ll be here.
Always on watch.
Now go to sleep, agent. Your dreams are safe tonight.
End of Transmission.
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