As a lifeless, immobile balloon, you would shiver in fear at your precarious situation. Bewildered by the transformation into a living balloon and then deflated by another living balloon, albeit a lovely bunny balloon, you feel like you've followed a pink rabbit down the rabbit hole. Helpless in the squeaky caress of this strange lady, you think it could be worse. You could have undone your nozzle and been a limp balloon alone by the pond with no one around to help. That's not to say it's much better now. You are still a limp balloon and unable to move.
The balloon bunny presses your floppy head to her own and rubbing noses. "Now, what to do with you?" She asks and places a bloated digit to her lips to pantomime a deep thought. "Well, as a balloon, you ought to try out all that we can do." She gets up from the bench and wraps you around her shoulders like a shawl. The night is silent except for the buzz of the lamps and distant hollers of kids roaming Pleasure Island. It's just you, this strange creature and many loud squeaks of latex.
You don't know where she's going and can only capture glimpses of the surroundings. The two of you walk for a good few minutes until a dark building materializes out of the night. It looks to be made from dingy brick. It might have been a different color, but who knows how long since this Island was cleaned. All the windows are dark and a single flickering light throws off-kilter shadows on everything. As the bunny nears the building, you realize it's not the building she was making for, but a small...stall...on the side. Something like an old telephone booth, but with no door.
She sets you down on the ground and turns to the stall, or booth, and pulls out a long hose which she attaches to your opened belly nozzle. Turning back, she pauses, examining something that you can't see. "Hmm...what shall we use? Helium? Water? Pudding? Air?" You can only look up at her helplessly.