Plushie Felix sat motionless on the sofa.
Amy had, yet again, left the lights off and gone out at night, leaving him alone in the dark, silent house.
PF had seen the movies and heard the horror stories about giant MOTHS that descended from the sky to devour hopeless plush toys...and afghans...and doilies. Their favorite fabric was fleeece.
Plushie Felix was made of fleece.
He clutched the afghan Amy's mom had crocheted for him. If he could have sweated, he would have totally been doing it now. He felt his stomach rumble. Or so he thought, maybe it was just some cotton shifting in there. He thought he was going to throw up. Well, his mouth was just a line made of thread, so that wasn't gonna happen...
Suddenly, a CRASH!! Then a sound, like WHOOSH WHOOOOOSH WHOOOOOSH. Felix gripped the afghan tighter. The cotton rose up his throat, into the back of his non-existent mouth.
The light came on. FLASH!! Felix felt a breeze. He looked up and saw that the ceiling fan was on. The CRASH had been Amy, who had just arrived home and flipped on the light.
PF was safe....for now.