Toys circled the television with jump ropes and pulled it back to Muhammad's room. On top of the TV, Channeler spoke reassuringly. "Thank the manufacturer; or, any subsidiary under the toymaker corporate umbrella. Let us remember sometimes things happen that are beyond our comprehension, just as Vision's clairvoyant flat screen is not measured horizontally or vertically, but diagonally."

After the strike team saluted their fallen comrade and returned to HQ the dimly lit hall became quiet. The broken Smith O'Reens looked at his scattered remnants and said, "Dear diary. Worth it."

Then the expendable major cast a sidelong look to discover the wind-up dog standing beside him. "Take your ball and go home, mechanized quadruped," he said softly. "My shelf life has expired... it's just standard operating pro-toy-col."

Some dogs smell cancer. The plush puppy remembered feeling lonely and with a heightened sense of kindness whispered, "I will stay with you."

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