How Do I Fix Broken Joints On 'I Have A Toy' Figures?

I was laid off. Having reached middle age and lacking any special skills, I could only work as a warehouse manager in a private company. On the first day of work, I saw a large, dusty object in the corner. An imported precision instrument worth four million dollars sat there as scrap metal. My new colleague scoffed. "Stop looking. The boss spent a fortune on it. Even ten experts couldn't handle it. It's just a decoration." I walked up and touched the familiar body of the machine. "I can fix this." The entire workshop fell silent. My boss came upon hearing the news. He looked at me with contempt. "If you can fix it, I'll give you half of my shares. If not, you'll pay with your life."

It happened on Thanksgiving Day. I was on my way to my girlfriend's house when a car slammed straight into mine. The road was deserted, not a single person was around. The doors were jammed shut from the impact, and flames were licking toward the engine. I fumbled for the safety hammer, only to find that someone had replaced it with a toy hammer shaped like a cartoon bear. Panicking, I called my girlfriend. But before she could even pick up, her ringtone started playing from the car that had just hit me. Luna Hill stepped out, hand in hand with her childhood sweetheart, Julian Ford. Julian put on a show of alarm. "Oh no, I'm such an idiot! My first time driving, and I already hit a car." When Luna saw that it was me in the crushed car, she quickly tried to calm him down. "It's fine. He probably did it on purpose." I pounded on the window, shouting for her. "Luna, the safety hammer's been switched out! Please, help me get out!" Julian burst into a grin. "Sebastian, that was me! The little bear hammer's adorable, isn't it?" Luna's face twisted in disgust. "You're fine. Stop being dramatic. Figure it out yourself." Thick smoke was billowing inside the car, and it was about to explode. I begged her to get me out. Julian chuckled. "Sebastian, are you cooking in there or what? That smoke's killing me!" He patted his stomach and said with a laugh, "Man, I'm starving. Luna, let's go home and eat." Luna hooked her arm through his and tossed a parting line over her shoulder. "Enough already. My parents are waiting for us to start dinner." Just as I was about to pass out from the smoke, I slammed my hand on the car's emergency button.

My childhood friend said that he was connected with the doll. Now that he had lost it, he called me up to cry. One hand held my phone as I consoled him, while the other toyed with the doll. His voice began to take on a more interesting tone with my purposeful touches… I squeezed and pinched the toy and comforted him, “Shh, I agree with you. Whoever took your toy is a terrible person…”

When I return to my hometown for the holidays, my brother-in-law, Tyler Atwood, has completely forgotten to hide his latest social media post from me. "Ugh, Arlene is really vain! Her room is filled with useless things like figurines and dolls! They are such an eyesore! "My daughter wants to play with them, and yet Arlene claims that those figurines are limited-edition. Since she refuses to let Celeste play with them, she can forget about keeping them!" Tyler even starts chatting with the commenters in the comment section. "Once we're done with Christmas dinner, I'll lock the door and let Celeste smash everything she sees there. If they break, I'll just claim that Celeste doesn't know any better. What, is Arlene going to take what a five-year-old does seriously? "When the time comes, I'll just guilt-trip her and cry even louder. Let's see who my in-laws will help by then!" As soon as I park the car in the courtyard, I hear loud smashing noises coming from the second floor. My niece, Celeste Atwood, screams excitedly at the top of her lungs. "That meanie's things are all dead now! I'm going to break them all!" That's when Tyler welcomes me at the door with a fake smile plastered on his face. "You're back, Arlene! Celeste is helping you clean your room at the moment. She really is a nice kid. She knows that you like things clean, so she insists on cleaning your room for you."

My husband, Calvin Ziegler, recently bought a lifelike silicone doll. He says it's a companion to help relieve work stress. In the middle of the night, a faint noise wakes me up. I discover him holding the doll tightly, his expression unusually focused. Suddenly, a series of strange comments appears before my eyes. "Dorothy Sanders is using the resonance system again tonight to transfer her consciousness into the doll's body. Sneaking around right under Laura Halliwell's nose is so thrilling!" "Calvin and Dorothy really know how to have fun. That idiot of a wife probably has no idea what's going on. Haha!" I look at the doll on the couch. The corners of its mouth are curled into an eerie smile. I smile too. Since you love being a doll so much, I'll make sure you stay one forever.

I die in the basement after being burned by acid. My family doesn't recognize me, and they don't call the cops. My mother picks up the scalpel that hasn't been used in years and debones me. My father excitedly mixes my skeleton with concrete and turns me into an exquisite statue. My sister uses the sculpture she's made out of my flesh and portrays herself as a genius sculptor whom everyone admires. Later, the sculpture is shattered, revealing half a broken finger inside. That's when everyone panics.