“You want… this?” My mentor says, holding up the bizzare old toy.

“Yep!” I respond, trying to keep my laugher in so he knows that I’m serious.

He jumped as it made an annoying noise. “You know this will get you killed instantly.”

“Eh. I beg to differ.” I snatched the fuzzy, big-eyed toy out of his hands, holding it up in like a trophy. “Trust me, with this thing I’m getting back home no problem.”

“Two. One.” The Hunger Games have begun.

I run to the woods, not bothering to get involved in the blood bath. I’ll let them kill each other for now, but soon it’ll be all over for them.

I climb into the trees, settling into a branch, waiting until nightfall. Trying to ignore memories sitting in other branches, genuinely happy with him around, I take out the sound system on the toy. No need for it to go off while I’m not ready.

Night’s here. I hear a branch cracking and I know it’s time. I sneak back down, turning it on and setting it at the base of the tree. I climb back up, but I stay on one of the lower branches, a rock in hand.

The toy does what it does best — being obnoxious. Those kids have no choice but to come see what’s making all that noise. “Ugh! What is that?” one of the kids asks. Sweet! I hit the jack pot!

One of them gets closer, his spear tucked tightly in his hand. “Is this…” he picks it up, “Is this a Furby?”

I jump out of the tree, landing on top of him. I smash my rock on his head for good measure. A cannon goes off.

The girl yells, hurling forward in attack, but I’m ready. I grab the boy’s spear and stab her through. Another cannon goes off. All that can be heard is the questions of the toy, calling my attention. “Yeah,” I tell it. “I do really think we’ve got this.”