Flick of the Claw

One second I was just plastic sprawled out on a gray carpet jungle, and the next—wait, I can twitch my finger. Seriously? I flexed my wrist, rolled my shoulder, and found myself staring at the yellow buddy flat on his back right next to me. His tiny silver claws were extended straight into the air. Naturally, I reached out and gave one a gentle tap. Click. Real metal vibe, or at least solid paint. I'm actually moving here. Guess nap time is officially over.