I got this guy when I was 2 years old, and it might just look like an old Popple, but it was much more than that. I thought I was crazy as fuck, but apparently what I used my popple for is quite normal in a sense. As a victim of severe abuse, I used popple as a sort of silent ally. Whenever my stepdad would get done beating me and leave the room, I would spend an hour or so talking to popple, trying to convince popple not to murder my stepfather. His ears knew all my secrets, and his puffy ball tail was magical and dried all of my tears.
I still sleep with him.
I still sleep with him.
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