Legacy Name: Toby
The Custom Scribble Priggle
Age: 14 years, 9 months, 3 weeks
Born: November 23rd, 2006
Adopted: 5 years, 1 month, 2 days ago
Adopted: August 17th, 2016
- Level: 1
- Strength: 12
- Defense: 10
- Speed: 11
- Health: 13
- HP: 13/13
- Intelligence: 0
- Books Read: 0
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Unemployed
Toby lived in Room 12.
But 1st graders are annoying.
So he ran away.
For the record, no one actually asked Toby if he would like to be a class pet for a bunch of 1st graders. He did not consent to the occupational hazards of such a position, which include (but are not limited to): inhabiting a very loud classroom eight hours a day, having no privacy, listening to the sluggish and grating attempts of children learning how to read (and not very well), being subjecting to the tap, tap, tap, of a chalkboard, and even having random garbage pushed between the bars of his insufferable prison (nobody wants a used eraser or warm strawberry covered in pocket lint).
Toby bailed as soon as the opportunity arose, which happened to be when Mrs. B was cleaning his cage after school. She was interrupted by a phone call (it was Johnny's mother again), and the disgruntled little hedgehog seized his moment to escape. In fact, he made it out of the classroom altogether thanks to the door being propped open by the custodian.
He was free at last!
Toby never thought he would make it this far, so he found himself quite overwhelmed at finally being able to do what he wanted. He explored the empty playground and its mysterious sand dunes, he roamed the eerie, empty hallways where it was delightfully quiet, and he sprawled out in the school garden where no one would see him.
He was making quite a life for himself on campus and made sure to appear only after the final bell rang at 3:00. The school's rabid children went about their day while he stayed tucked away among the cucumbers.
Then the posters started to appear.
Toby could read, thank you very much. You can't exactly spend literal years in first grade without learning how to. And it didn't take long for him to recognize not only his name, but his likeness plastered all about the school. At first, the little fugitive was annoyed. Couldn't he just be left alone?
But his wanted posters included written details as well. They included (but were not limited to) the following words: "speshul", "smart", "lovd", "importnt", and even "pritee."
It finally dawned on Toby that he may have made a mistake. Yes, children are annoying. Insufferable, in fact. But he missed the familiar voices of the children from Room 12. He missed their excitement in seeing him every day, their sticky faces beaming at him in the morning. He missed overhearing the stories they read (albeit very poorly), and he missed watching their improvement in math on the chalkboard. He even missed receiving a small token of love occasionally, like a chewed eraser or old strawberry.
Toby missed Room 12.
So, he gave up his life on the lam and consented to the occupational hazards of being a beloved classroom pet. He was welcomed back with open arms, and his missing posters were removed from the hallway.
The classroom is still noisy, and the 1st graders can still be wretched. And yet...
Toby hasn't looked back.
Torn Out Doodle Page
Box of Crayons
iNKorporated After Five Forgotten Pencil
Happy Chubby Bumblebee Plushie