The assembled members of the Grand Council of the Toys lorded over the lonely figure in the center of the bedroom.
“You are not a toy,” a voice boomed from the Council.
The cardboard wrapping-paper tube stood against the accusation. “But I am,” it said in its defence. “He plays with me!”
The Council would have none of it. “We have decided.”
A horde of plastic, wood, metal, and fabric descended on the tube. The gathered toys swept up the interloper and dragged the tube towards the door.
“You are hereby sentenced to death. You will be offered to the beast,” the Council declared from behind them.
Sumo the dog loped down the hall. His keen eyes spotted something new in the middle of the floor. It looked like a bone. Perhaps it tasted like one as well.
The tube could not stop the inevitable.
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