"Um ... Wh-who are you and wh-what do you, um , want from me?" you stuttered, trying to figure out if you should put your hands up or snatch up the fox into your arms for a hug. If this is a robbery, it has to be the most adorable one you can imagine.
"I'm Private Pillowtime, and I only want you! I'm here to bring you into a cuter, cuddlier tomorrow. You are the next human to join us in our friendly fraternity of fluff. And you will do so willingly or by force. Oh, and I brought cookies." The private held up his plate a little higher. You pick up a cookie and take a little nibble off of it. Hm, not bad.
"Uh, thanks ... Private? ... but are you sure you've got the right guy? I mean, aren't I a little old to be playing with stuffed animals? If that's what you are, no offense."
The plush fox put down his cookies and took out a little torn-out notebook paper with what looked like a children's drawing of a stick figure in brown crayon. Somehow the stick-figures face managed to look sort of like yours.
"You are Skylar Clemons, age 15, of Clairmont Central High School?" asked the 3-foot fox.
"Well, yes, ... This isn't about my history homework, is it? I promise, it's almost finished, I just wanted to watch some TV and--"
"It is not about your puny civilization's brief and boring history!" The frustration with which he flails his arms just melts your heart. He takes a few deep breaths and tries to calm down again. "This is my extra-special, super-important mission from the Fast-and-Fluffy Force!"
You giggle. "Fast-and-Fluffy Force?" He actually seems a bit relieved. You guess he thinks you understand.
"Yeah, we're the ones who are assimilating the whole human race," he says with a grin. "You're becoming an adorable new colony world of the Spacey Wacey Principality of Assi-sim-ilated Specie-Wecies!"
"Awww, you're so cute, Private Pillowtime!" you can't help but blurt out. Your eyes light up with recognition as you think back to that weird commercial a few months back. "I guess this is another part of that marketing campaign?"
The private rolls his googly eyes as though he's heard that marketing comment a thousand times. He sighs. "You could say that." He goes back to fumbling with his ray gun and says, "Ah, ok here's the button!" And a sparkly rainbow shines out of the ray gun and envolopes your whole body! You're shrinking! You're fluffy-ing! You're turning into ...