Chapter 7

Dinner at the Factory

San soon gave up on Ty's ability to walk for himself and placed the child on his shoulder, allowing him to run at a full sprint. They sped through the halls at a blinding speed, as if San wanted Ty to see as little as possible before the tour officially started. If that was indeed his goal, he accomplished it with flying colors; all Ty could make out were brief flashes of rooms and halls.

Ty knew their destination was actually quite far away from his cell, but in little more than a minute, San stopped in front of big dining hall doors. San placed Ty back on the ground, smiled at him, and pushed the doors open, releasing a blast of noises and smells as he walked inside. Ty quickly followed after him.

The doors closed behind them, two sock monkeys thankfully being the cause and not supernatural means. Ty didn't entirely mind the possibility of being trapped, however; this new room was far too strange and amazing, filled to the brim with living stuffed animals of all kinds and colors: dogs, birds, cats, any animal you could imagine and many others, including imaginative hybrids. At first glance, they looked like the average plush that would be in any self-respecting child's room under the age of ten, but the more he looked at them the less childish they seemed. This one was missing an eye, that one had stitching all over as if he'd seen entire wars, a bunny was missing one of its ears. Each one he saw had something weird about them, some unnatural twist on what their normal appearance should be... similar to their proprietor.

But the table was by far the most amazing thing in the room. It stretched on for a mile or more, the other end nowhere in sight. If every seat was filled, there could have been millions of the stuffed animals.

San took his seat at the head of the table directly in front of the door. His bony hand beckoned from around the chair for Ty to follow his example. He went to take the seat on San's left but was beat to it by a stranger's hand.

The hand was large like San's, white, but artificial plastic instead of bony. Similar to that of a mannequin, but it moved as smooth as a real hand. The fingers were sharpened to deadly, curved points.

He turned around with great care as if he would lose his head if he moved too quickly. He completed the revolution, his head still intact, and slowly looked up toward the owner of the hand.

He hadn’t thought it possible, but the newcomer was even taller than San. Had this been a normal-sized room, the stranger would have gone through the ceiling. His body was thinner than San's, almost like a stick figure. Coupled with his height, he looked as if a light poke could knock him off his feet.

But Ty knew better. If he was crazy enough to try poking this thing, it would most assuredly continue standing. If he punched it, it would be like hitting a steel wall.

Its clothes were similar to San’s but in green instead, the only bit of red was around his collar and chest. Atop his head, a pointed green hat that—again, like San’s—dipped downwards and behind his head.

And his face. He wore a simple white facade, sort of like the smiling and frowning masks at a theater—which Ty always found creepy—but with even less detail put into its design. This mask had two simple dots for eyes and a squiggly, imperfect smile drawn onto it.

As Ty stared up at the abnormally tall and alarming figure, a second one came into view beside it. A perfect copy as his partner-in-creepiness, from the height down to every detail of his wardrobe. The new one grabbed Ty by the shoulders before he could cry out or fight back and sat him gently into his chair. The first one pushed the chair closer to the table, patted his head, then they both left the boy to stand behind San's chair like his loyal bodyguards.

San noticed Ty's fear of his guards and the way he kept looking at them from the corner of his eye. San laughed, gestured to the twins, and said, “I'm sorry, I should have properly introduced them first. I realize they can be a tad disturbing before one gets to know them.”

Ty had a hard time believing they could ever be anything but disturbing.

San continued, “These are my Elves.”

The twin “Elves” took a step away from San's chair in order to give them enough room to bow. Elves... that made sense. They fit with San's Santa imitation like a glove. Santa's elves were short and happy all the time—San's elves were giants with painted smiles hiding who knew what underneath.

The Elves straightened back to their full height and returned to their spots beside San. He looked to Ty, started to say something, but was drowned out by the plush creatures—the term just came to him, feeling right—talking among themselves. The noise was overwhelming, worse than his cafeteria at school. With just a wave of his hand, San silenced them all—a gift Ty's teachers would have likely killed for.

“Good evening, friends,” he said, cheerfully. He did not yell nor did he even raise his voice in the slightest, but his words sailed through the dining hall so that all could hear. “As I'm sure you've already noticed, we have a guest.”

Millions of eyes turned to Ty, and he suddenly felt like a cornered animal.

“Let's give him a grand welcoming feast, shall we?” The creatures banged their knives and forks on the table by way of answer.

San raised both hands this time and clapped them twice. Two doors—that Ty was certain had not been there before—flew open, one on each side of the table, and a line of teddy bears marched out. They held plates of food in both of their hands, skipping and carrying on with far too much enthusiasm for their work. In the blink of an eye, the bears deposited their loads, covering the once barren table with piles of food.

Distracted by everything around him, Ty missed the bear that brought his food, but sure enough, there it was in front of him: pizza, chicken, French fries, and shrimp—all his favorites. It looked absolutely delicious... at first. Upon closer examination, the chicken, every single fry… all of the meal was a stuffed toy. Ty glanced beside him, curious to see if he was the only one with this, what he hoped was a practical joke. To his left, a plush lizard happily tore away at a chicken leg. Between bites, Ty saw not white meat but white stuffing.

It wasn't a joke. Did that make them cannibals...?

“Go ahead, try it,” San's voice startled Ty and he dropped the piece of pepperoni he’d been examining.

“Um... no thanks.”

“Trust me,” he smiled. “It may look like fabric and stuffing, but it tastes like the real deal.”

Intrigued, Ty hesitantly picked up the piece of pepperoni again, closed his eyes, bit into it, and swallowed. “Wow! It does!”

San laughed as Ty picked up one of each of the food items on his plate, trying all of them. Each one tasted the way they were supposed to—maybe even better than the real thing—but, texture-wise, they were all wrong. They felt furry and rough on his tongue, the same way a real plush would feel. Despite that, the food was so good he was compelled to keep eating, pushing past the instinct to spit it back out again.

“How is this possible?” Ty asked as he chomped down on a slice of the pizza.

“You know... I've wondered that for years myself, but they've never told me. A chef guards their recipes as well as a dragon does its gold, eh?”

“I guess so...” Ty mumbled between mouthfuls.

Unsure of anything else to say to San to keep a conversation, Ty fixed his attention on his food, continuing to scarf it down. He glanced up every now and then and his mind couldn't help but recall days where he and Anna had played tea party with Lily and her stuffed animals. This table and chair were nicer than her plastic ones and San had more stuffed animals than Lily had in her entire room, but still, the situation felt very similar.

When his plate was half empty, he got a tingling feeling on the back of his neck. Ty looked up to find that the plush creatures finished eating and every eye was on him once more. None of them seemed particularly full and the looks they gave him were very discomforting.

San spoke again and every eye moved to him instead. “Well, friends. You enjoyed your meal, I hope?”

The plush creatures shouted a unanimous yes.

“Good, good! Well, then,” he pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “I'm off to show our guest around! Carry on about your business.”

San beckoned to Ty, setting off in the opposite direction that they entered. The Elves walked by San's side and Ty followed behind them.

“This way is quicker,” San explained.

Not quick enough for Ty's taste. When San told the creatures to carry on, he assumed they would all get up in a grand exodus. Instead, they stayed in their seats, only their eyes and heads moving as they watched Ty walk past. Even the bear chefs peeked out at him from the kitchen, dozens of little button eyes looking out from the door and service window. They hastened to close the door as he neared, but Ty heard it open again as he passed.

He felt like a freak on display... to a public made up of living stuffed animals.

Ty looked straight ahead, at San's back, and tried not to think about all the things full-on staring at him. He risked a glance every now and then to see how much of the room—and the table—was left ahead of them.

According to Ty's track of time, it was roughly fifteen minutes before the end of the room was in sight. A few minutes more and they finally cleared the last feet of the table. Ty thought he was in the clear when one of the plush creatures lashed out.

His attacker was a frog with only one large eye that took up its entire face. Its mouth was wide open, a long tongue flicking toward Ty in a blur. He could do nothing but watch as it raced for his neck.

Reflexes kicked in, then. Instead of doing something amazing and helpful, they forced his eyes shut, accomplishing nothing but cowardice. Stupid reflexes.

Ty was violently yanked backward, so fast that his eyes popped open again in surprise. The tongue was still there, just inches from his face. It squirmed and thrashed in the grip of one of the Elves. The same Elf stepped closer, grabbed the frog by the head, and lifted it into the air. The frog's whole body wriggled in protest.

Ty looked up to see the other Elf's towering figure, his hands the ones that had pulled Ty to safety. The Elf's painted face looked down on him, revealing nothing of the Elf's true intentions. He touched Ty gently on the head and moved between the boy and the frog. He watched San's reaction from between the Elf's lanky legs.

He was slow to move which was more terrifying than an instant outburst of rage. That would have been the expected reaction. San was calm, clearheaded, giving the frog plenty of time to imagine all sorts of horrible ways things could go for him.

San walked up to the frog, stopping with his face inches away from the large, terrified eye. “Do you have a problem with our guest?” He asked.

The frog tried to shake his head, but couldn't quite manage it in the Elf's grip, so it settled with shaking his legs and torso back and forth with vigor.

“That's too bad,” San moved a step to his right, blocking Ty's view of the frog and, more importantly, San's teeth as he flashed them at the poor creature, hissing, “Because I have a problem with you. Take him away.”

The frog began anew with his thrashing, trying desperately to break free. The Elf behind Ty moved with a speed that made Ty uncomfortable and whacked the plush creature once in the middle of his back. His body went still at once. The other Elf handed the frog off to his brother but kept his grip on the tongue as if it was the real danger, a snake that could strike at any moment.

They marched out of the room like that; one Elf holding the body, the other following a few steps behind with the tongue. Ty watched, dazed.

The creatures at the table were still seated, watching the show with bated breath. San waved them away and they jumped out of their seats, running as if he yelled and threw daggers at them. They swarmed away from Ty and San's side of the room, deciding it better to run a mile to the other door than risk going past their master and his guest.

San turned to face Ty. “I am so sorry,” he said. “The frog will be justly punished, I assure you.”

“Th-that's okay, you don't need to do that. He... really wouldn't have eaten me or anything... right?”

San didn't answer. How comforting.