The Boy tossed them both into the Toy Chest—a cavernous, wooden sanctuary where the war always ended. As the lid closed, Grunt looked at the Alien Commander. The enmity of the battlefield faded in the warmth of the pile of stuffed animals.
The enemy was formidable: the Galactic Raiders, a ragtag group of neon-purple aliens with oversized heads and translucent blasters. They held the strategic high ground of the Ottoman Cliffs. toy-soldiers-complete
Huge fingers descended from the heavens. The Boy scooped up the remote, but in his haste, he knocked the Alien Commander and General Grunt together. For a brief moment, they were jammed into the Boy's pocket, shoulder to molded shoulder. The Boy tossed them both into the Toy
The soldiers didn't blink—partly because they were molded that way, but mostly because they were disciplined. Corporal "Lefty" (who had lost half an arm to a teething puppy in '24) checked his plastic bayonet. “Movement on the flank, Sir!” Lefty whispered. The enemy was formidable: the Galactic Raiders, a