His shoes were heavy as he shuffled down the damp ashen concrete
steps. Usually a day of this nature would inspire him to smile or make
charming with the neighborhood kids, but something was different
today, there was something new. Across the street was a large moving
van, inside its contents were visible, and they looked trashy. He
walked across the street, checking to see if any of the movers were
within sight and upon seeing no one, hopped into the vehicle.

Inside were stacks of magazines and a few self help posters. Clutter
of an average shut in, he thought, but in the corner of the truck
rested something peculiar, and rank. It was reminiscent of an easy
chair covered in old lettuce. Its scent caressed his nostrils with a
beautiful air of decay, and he knew, once and for all he was in love.

He made his way towards the object, softly, so as not to alert the
fuckheads transplanting the worthless merchandise around him. As he
drew closer, the smell became overbearing, it was as if the thing knew
he was coming and flushed its bowels in a worthless attempt to thwart
the man's curiosity. Unfortunately for the item, this man was fueled
by smells, and he was in lust with this new one in his midst.

It became so pungent that he had to cradle his eyes, tears had formed
a few steps back but at this time and place he was full on crying. His
steps became heavier, approaching this new lover was taking its toll
on him, but he needed to greet the newcomer, and his sexuality urged
him on.

Within a yard of the beast, it became apparent that the owner of the
stench wasn't in fact a chair, but rather an obese plush novelty panda
that one might win at a game of chance at a traveling carnival. Its
eyes were sunken into the dingy fabric that made up its flesh. They
were almost nonexistent, but there was faint life in them, and it
drove the man closer to his victim. The creatures arms and legs were
rounded, like white and black loaves of bread. On one paw there were
needles protruding out at a great length, if the animal were alive,
the man would have turned back at this point.

"Yeah I know" sounded a voice outside the truck. The man heard the
talking and ducked quickly behind a stack of National Geographic World
magazines. The truck moaned and swayed as two other figures entered,
"What is with this shit" fussed one voice, "Shut up, Tanya's bringin'
me a ham sandwich and a cup of tomato soup in about twenty minutes, so
we gotta bust our asses" replied a beefy voice. They lifted something
heavy and the truck sighed a squeal of relief when their weigh vacated
its gaping steel rectum.

The man grunted, satisfied that he was alone again with his new found
romance. The smell was new and stronger, his olfactory could not
adjust to its every changing offensiveness, but that was the way he
had grown to like it. Overcome with feelings of lust, he crawled on
hand and knee to the side of his statuesque creature of comfort.
Shyly, he reached forward to rub its plush belly, his hand rested on
the material, awe had set in. The panda was large, larger than he had
realized, it was about seven feet tall and must have weighed around
two hundred pounds.

His hands traveled down the animal, southward, taking a vacation below
the equator. His face spasmed with anticipation, but was soon replaced
with silent fear and interest. The beast's crotch had a large
instrument protruding outwards, pointing at the man as if warding him
off. Not caring he felt around the object and came to his conclusion
that it was some sort of rudimentary sex device, crafted from a
turkey-baster and wrapped in something that could only have been
perfumed cellophane.

Curiously, he explored further and was rewarded upon finding a gaping
hole at the rear of the bear. The owner of this animal must be some
deviant indeed, he though. He had made his own "toys" in his youth but
none had ever had the time or dedication or creativity that this one
possessed...And that smell, he thought, how can such an inanimate
object secrete such a beautifully obtuse odor! The man squirmed in
ecstasy and hugged the bear, finally finding something he associated
with that didn't judge him.

One of the truck's large yellow doors rattled shut starling the man
and sending him viciously lunging into the belly of his fabric friend.
The needled paw stabbed him in the arm, twisting through his flesh
like cool metal worms. He stifled his cry, long enough to hear the
words of the fuckheads outside. "Who cares, she said come back
tomorrow, God knows I don't want to deal with this shit any longer,
I'm gonna puke if we have to get in there again." The other door shut,
drowning the interior in darkness, the man whimpered, sensing the pain
but not being able to see the damage. "I'm outta here" grunted one of
the fuckheads, then there was black and silence.

A few minutes elapsed before the man pried the needles from his arm.
The pain was present, but so was his perverted curiosity, and in the
end it was the winner of the two. He jammed his fist into the hole of
the beast. It sank in easily and damply, the craftsmanship of the
device was truly to be appreciated. Smell oozed out the farther in he
explored, whatever caused the odor was definitely upset and inside the
stuffed animal. His hand continued its onslaught for what seemed like
hours, the aroma had destroyed his perception of time, but he didn't
care.

It must have been early evening when he felt the creature move on it's
own. It wasn't a big move, but a noticeable one all the same. He had
tired of violating and had moved on to cuddling with his lover. He
nuzzled against the bear as if he were a child sleeping next to the
family dog. He was almost asleep when the head of the bear cocked to
the side and wheezed softly. It did disturb him, but not too much, as
he had already conquered the stuffed toy, and to feel it complain now
did not make any sense to him.

Later on when the bear touched him, and moved freely but still a might
bit retarded, did his fear grip him the most. He had been asleep for a
while, blanketed in the gross smell of rot that surrounded him and
clouded his dreams. The arms of his friend engulfed him in sticky
decay, in what must have looked like a half-assed attempt at a hug.
The man shot to his feet and noisily destroyed stacks of magazines and
posters on his way to the far end of the truck. He pounded on the door
but it would not unlock from the inside, it had been locked for the
night, or longer.

Defeated and distressed he sank down along the wall, finally resting
on his feet, ready to spring if something should attempt to hug him
again. The rest of the night was awful, the smell had grown worse and
was actually becoming unbearable to the him. His nose was running,
partially from the stink and partially from the amount of crying he
had been doing. His breathing was shallow, and from the other end of
the truck he could hear his lover moving softly in the darkness.

He fumbled around, looking for a weapon, but the only find was a
broken corner of a picture frame, and it was worthless to brawl with
it. It may have been early morning when the fear really set in, his
perception of time was shot along with his sense of smell. Thudding
reverberated from the far end of the truck, something was moving, or
trying to move and was making quite a commotion amidst the stacks of
paper. The man huddled close to himself, fearing the fear of the
unknown and the claustrophobia the darkness had set upon him.

He hushed his breath and strained his ears. He could hear breathing,
something other than him, it sounded like it was listening for his
position too. That was when he heard the voice. It wasn't loud or
hostile, in fact it was defeated and shamed if it was anything. It was
a human voice, and it was extremely muffled. "Help me" it whined, "I
think I've been poisoned."