Toy Story The Remote of Transformation chapter 13 by deleted_user

Paul was almost certain he’d seen the burly construction-worker body duck into the big toy store near the food court escalator. Tool belt, safety vest, the whole unmistakable package.

He pushed through the glass doors, the cheerful jingle of the entrance bell clashing horribly with the mall’s distant screaming.

Inside, the store was eerily normal at first glance—bright lights, colorful shelves, the smell of plastic and hope. Then Paul heard giggling.

In the action-figure aisle, an elderly man in a cardigan and khakis was gleefully smashing two Transformers together, making explosion noises with a surprisingly young, energetic voice. “Pew pew! Take that, Megatron!”

Next to him, a tall college-age woman in yoga pants and a cropped hoodie was on her knees, building an enormous Lego tower while cackling like a maniac. “Dude, this is awesome! Watch me make it taller than your dumb truck!”

A little six-year-old girl in a sparkly princess dress came barreling down the aisle after them, tiny fists pumping. “Put the toys back, boys! We can't afford those!”

The old man looked up, still holding the Transformer. “But Dad, this body can reach the top shelf! And Jimmy's has boobs!”

The college woman stuck her tongue out. “Yeah, and they jiggle when I run! Best day ever!”

The little girl planted her hands on her tiny hips and stamped one sparkly shoe. “Out! Both of you! We are going home and figuring this out like adults!”

Paul stood there, curvy Latina bombshell in the middle of the chaos, chest heaving. The little girl finally noticed him and froze mid-scold. Her eyes went wide, staring openly at Paul’s exaggerated hourglass figure.

“Woah…” the six-year-old girl breathed in her tiny voice, then shook her head hard, cheeks turning pink. “I mean—uh—ma’am? You okay? You look… Do you know what's going on here?"

Paul shook his head. “I’m looking for a big guy—construction worker, beard, tool belt, safety vest. Did he come in here? It’s really important. I need to talk to whoever’s in that body.”

The little girl (dad) blinked, still clearly distracted by Paul’s cleavage, then pointed toward the back of the store. “Yeah, some huge dude with a beard ran through here a minute ago. Knocked over the Pokémon display. He looked freaked out—kept grabbing at his crotch like he’d never had one before. Went that way, toward the exit to the parking garage, I think.”

The old man snickered. “He had really big hands.”

The college-woman nodded enthusiastically. “Hey miss, do you need me to reach anything from the top shelves for you?”

Their “father” groaned in his six-year-old voice and started herding them toward the exit. “No! We are leaving! Sorry about the mess, miss. Good luck with… whatever this is.”

Paul thanked the tiny dad quickly and turned to leave and

stepped back into the main mall corridor, scanning desperately for any sign of the construction-worker body. The remote was still out there, and with it, any chance of fixing this nightmare.