rating: +49+x

Oh hey, Rex.

Yeah, I'm alright, just thinking.

Well, when I was a kid I had this blanket. It was big and blue, and I called it 'Fanfa'. It was everything I needed it to be; a blanket, a bag, a cape, anything. I used to take it everywhere with me back then, and we'd do everything together. Calling it my imaginary friend would be a misnomer because I knew it was just a blanket, but I chose to treat it like a living object. I'm not sure why.

I remember when I was six it got a big hole in it. I don't remember how it happened but I remember that it happened, and I was so torn up about it I was crying and begging my mom to fix it. She offered to just buy a new one but no, I wanted my Fanfa. I wouldn't take anything else. She fixed it eventually, and I remember I was extra careful with it to make sure nothing like that ever happened again.

I kept doing everything with Fanfa for maybe another year and some change. I'd had it for about four years at that point, and it was full of stains, small little holes, and it didn't quite feel like itself anymore. Because I cared about it so much, my mom folded it and put it away in a little plastic container and put it away in my room so I wouldn't lose it. If memory serves, it's still there even after all these years.

But I remember feeling miserable when Fanfa was taken away from me. I understood why it happened, I had to grow up sometime and the amount of love and…. I guess you can call it an 'obsession'… Anyway, the 'obsession' I had with that blanket was getting to be weird at my age. I was six or seven, I don't remember, but like I said, I was miserable. I think that may have been the first time I ever felt depressed. Depressed because I was being forced to give up my best friend and favorite toy.

I'm getting to it.

Anyway, that got me thinking about what we do now. I know we do what we're doing because we have to, and even if we didn't, we're still getting paid to do it so… you know what I mean? But I digress. When our field agents take away those kid's toys… I know they give them amnestics so they don't remember anything. But just imagine if you were one of those kids. Your parents got you this awesome new Robo-Dude from some mysterious toy manufacturer and it's the most magical thing you've ever experienced. Because it is magical. It's made by Wondertainment herself. Imagine how much more of a connection you make with something so unique over something mundane.

God knows how long it takes for our field agents to figure out who and where the people who bought these things are. A kid could have made some life-defining memories with the toy before any of our guys find out they have to nab it. And just… I don't know. I put myself in their shoes a lot. I don't know what I would have done if someone tried to steal Fanfa from me by force. Of course, I probably wouldn't remember it; I've never been amnesticized or at least don't recall being amnesticized.

But… I felt so much anger and resentment at my parents for doing what they did with Fanfa. I was mad that they were taking away my favorite thing. Imagine if a stranger stormed into your house and did the same thing. Those few moments before the amnestics were deployed and all you knew was this stranger in tactical gear had yoinked your Robo-Dude right out of your hands without rhyme or reason… it eats at me, man.

I know, I know. Secure, Contain, Protect. And yeah, they don't even remember it, but… the feeling is still there, you know? Buried deep down somewhere in their brains they know they've felt immense pain and they'll never be able to place it. Because that moment was gone like a candle in the wind.

Yeah, sorry. I'm having a weird day. I'll see you at the lab in a few minutes. I think I'm going to call my parents first.

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