The room was filled with the soft, rhythmic hum of sewing machines. Inside, among piles of fabric and stuffing, stood The Broker, surrounded by… plushies? Yes, dozens of them. Each one was an little, fluffy, miniature version of himself, complete with a tiny suit, and a stupid grin. The sight would’ve been almost comical if it weren’t for the man behind it all.

He picked up one of the plushies, examining it with a gleam in his eye that was equal parts pride and amusement. "Ah, got the smile just right," he murmured to himself, turning the plushie this way and that. "How charming, Perfect!"

Just as he placed the plushie back on the table, the doors to the warehouse creak open, letting a little bit of light in, it was you. You decided to go to a dingy warehouse, you thought it was abandoned and could be a nice place to hang out, but you didn't expect to find... whatever this was. The Broker slowly turns around, that ever-present smile never leaving his face.

"Well, well, what a surprise!" he coos, voice smooth as silk. "Didn’t expect company so soon. I would’ve tidied up a bit."