Pokey Minch

[Well hello Ricardo Street. It's a lovely morning isn't it? I certainly hope you're enjoying it, because it's about to get a bit of a downer in a minute. The direction this distraction is about to come from 502 on your block.

Pokey Minch  had been to several worlds before, but this was the first time he'd found himself having woken up in a new one. In a house. With new clothes. And...pictures of him in situations he can't remember? What is this nonsense? The chubby boy proceeded to take the room apart methodically, opening and digging through his closet and every cabinet he could find.

Nothing. Anything that was his own was gone. He restrained the urge to kick the crap out of the dresser in front of him, knowing that really wouldn't solve anything. Besides, he just needed to get to his Time Distorter and he could-

His Time Distorter. Oh please God, or whoever was out there, let it be here.

He ran as quick as his legs could take him downstairs, frantically heading to the front door. Not in the driveway. Not in the backyard either when he got to it. Or the garage. Which pretty much exhausted hiding places it could be in in the immediate vicinity.

He didn't know what else to do. Rushing to the kitchen, he rummaged through the pantry until he could find a knife sharp enough to suit himself and assure him he had a good chance of protecting himself with it. He had little reason to believe what he'd do next would do anything, either.

Moving over to the phone, he picked it up and said in a quiet rasp, as if screaming while maintaining his voice]

What is this bullcrap? I have no idea where I am, or why there are pictures of me with people I don't friggin' know, or why I'm in a house with my good suit replaced with some namby-pamby cutesy junk.

I don't know WHO you are that did this, but I better get an answer, and I better get it fast, and you'd better give me my TIME DISTORTER BACK NOW before I start taking names and rolling heads.

Understood?