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The Toy Museum has its own kind of gravity.
Once you’ve visited a shelf, it tugs at you.

Tonight, the Night Watchman finds himself
back in the Barbie gallery.
Same pink glow.
Same tiny shoes.

But the spotlight is different.

It’s shifted to the left.

[Soft click of a case light turning on.]

NARRATOR:
Onto a smiling man,
molded hair,
permanent tan,
and a wardrobe that never quite decides what he does for a living.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
All right, then.
Your turn.

KEN (slightly nervous, friendly):
Wow.
Okay. Hi.
Uh… this is weird.

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