Puppet Show #4189

Your little indices are tickled with excitement. They dance along that carved out paper cutout of a set piece with vivid emotion. Without a mouth, there really are those times when you just have to imagine what speaking could have been. All that play and no words. You can't be very extreme when you're a puppet either, because once you leave that stage, you no longer exist. It's a temporary career, and usually only the kids laugh, but you have no real other career opportunities. I mean, you could go play rock paper scissors or join the shadow imaging club, but there really isn't much future investment in those areas. You are just waiting for that cold metal ring to slip over you for life, but I think you've invested too much in your dancing. After all, those silly paintbrush costumes wouldn't suit you for that long. And you tell me every night, how it's better than being shoved up some nose or used to annoy one of those human creatures, but I beg to differ. Maybe you weren't always cut out to be a puppeteer. Maybe fingers are boring after all.