You had kicked Great Terror Oso down a pit, thinking he had died.

64 minutes later, he jumped back out of the pit, his face slightly cracked but more plastic than crackled. His eyes had sunk, no longer having pupils.

He was less happy, his hand holding the toy gripping it tighter, while his free hand gripped the air.

He laughed, and laughed, and laughed

“We’re not done.”