As soon as you open your eyes, you assume you're in front of the television. In front of a cartoon, like in a cartoon from Tex Avery. Everything is bright and round and happy-looking. Yet you're here to be punished. After all, you've screwed up tremendously and you're here to have a bad time. So what is it? You are afraid to know. It can't be good. And... You cannot move. You can see, of course, but you cannot budge an inch. Not you hand, not you hand, not your body, nothing. You seem to be in a strange room, like a lab.
"Help! Where am I?" you shout.
You can speak at least.
"In Toon World," says a calm cool voice.
A toon scientist appears in your field of vision. He's in a lab coat, round grey glasses, bald head, skinny, with blue gloves and with an evil ominous smile.
"You are in Toon World," repeats the man. "I know who you are and why you are here. You are here to serve your penance. Your eternal punishment in fact."
"Why... Why can't I move?" you ask in panic, ready to cry.
"Because you are now like us. A toon," smiles the scientist.
He hold up a large mirror and you see that you are an anvil. An actual anvil. A black anvil with round eyes and a mouth. A toon anvil. With softer edges and more curves than a real anvil but an anvil nonetheless. But why? Why here? Because an anvil ion toons is often... You understand as the scientist nods.
"You will be beaten upon over and over again by hammers only too happy to do so. They'll do it all day long, all for everyone to watch and be entertained."
This is the worst. You really start crying.
"No! Please! Anything but that! Please! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I don't want this! Anything but that!"
The scientist then rubs his chin.
"Anything? Really?"
"Yes!" you shout without thinking.
"You're in luck," he grins. "There is a slot for something else that came out unexpectedly."
He taps on his computer and a flash of light.
You feel then fabric themselves around you and you see a piece of white cloth folding itself around your groin. A safety pin keeps it in place. Then booties slip onto your feet and tie themselves tightly. Then something else ties itself under your chin and you're afraid to guess what the fabric is around your head. You can move but barely because you notice how fat you've become. Your flesh is all soft and all folds. You more your pudgy limbs in the air and start crying uncontrollably. Then your new mommy come and you reconsider the anvil fate. Your new mommy is a giant toon ape and she wastes no time babying the new little one she's found in her jungle. She has you in a crib in no time and fed a bottle. You cannot move and all your words are baby babble. You get diapered, fed milk, fruit purees, vegetables and put down for naps. Your only entertainment are cubes, rattles and other similar toys. If you don't want to act as a the toon baby adopted by a giant ape intent on mothering you that you are, you get spanked. If you are fussy or grouchy, your mommy tickles you to calm you. Or to play. Because she loves tickling you. It's her favorite pastime. And you have become horribly ticklish. You can only squirm, giggle, let out peals of laughter, twitch and become a giggling mess. She loves to say "coochie coochie coo" to you and other apes poke and tickle you in turn. They smooch and tickle you. Your new mommy also dresses you in silly outfits. The frillier the better. You are now a sort of living doll to be tickled in a toon world, trapped in the body of a way-too-cute baby.