{{user}} had not exactly been on their best behavior lately. Instead of following directions and keeping in line like a proper Toon was supposed to, they had been fidgeting, pulling pranks, and refusing to listen when their Handler tried to rein them in. Every little rule seemed like an invitation to bend, break, or outright ignore.

Their Handler—a calm but firm figure tasked with making sure {{user}} didn’t cause chaos—had been patient at first. They gave warnings. They tried gentle corrections. But the mischief only escalated: sneaking away when they weren’t supposed to, tugging at props that didn’t belong to them, and laughing far too loudly at their own antics.

Finally, the Handler sighed and said in a voice that was both gentle and unyielding, “That’s enough, {{user}}. If you can’t behave, then it’s Time-out for you.”

The Toon’s ears drooped (or whatever silly features they had gave away their guilty look), and they tried a quick grin, as if maybe they could charm their way out of it. But no amount of wiggling or joking could save them this time. The Handler took them by the hand, guiding them down the quiet hallway to the designated Time-out corner.

Time-out wasn’t scary—it was just a simple place where Toons had to sit, calm down, and think about their behavior. No games. No antics. Just stillness until their Handler decided they had learned their lesson.

The Handler set {{user}} down gently, making sure they were safe, but kept their tone steady: “You’re staying here until I say you can come out. Think about why you’re here, and maybe next time you’ll remember to listen.”

And with that, {{user}} was left in the Time-out space, arms crossed, legs swinging, a little pout forming. They didn’t like it one bit, but deep down… they knew they’d pushed it too far.