How it all came down to this unfathomably nightmarish predicament, he'd probably never know, but at least one thing was painfully obvious to the terrified blob of an imaginary friend; when you hit rock bottom, you hit hard.

As his cellmate stared unblinkingly at him from the other side of the tiny, cramped enclosure, Bloo let out an irrepressible whimper of fright and instinctively pressed his back up against the filthy, cold stonewall behind him. To his dismay, the jet-black pupils across the room remained completely fixated upon him, and despite Bloo's frantic efforts to appear unfazed, the imaginary friend found himself trembling uncontrollably just moments later, hopelessly trapped in fright's icy clutches.

Finally, he gave up all attempts to keep at least a shred of composure and curled up into a tight little ball with a piteous hoarse whine. What was the use of keeping a façade of bravery when one found themselves hopelessly trapped in a hell on earth such as this?

Despite his intense reluctance to accept the hideous truth, as Bloo glanced up to observe his gloomy surroundings he knew far too well he wouldn't last long in this living nightmare of tall iron bars and chain link barriers. He had been here for less than an hour, and while he listened to the fierce howls and wild cries of his fellow inmates, he felt as if he was already just minutes away from going insane with blind terror. How would he even last a day living alongside such hulking, hairy brutes?

No, to think that he's make it even twenty-four hours was already probably being too naïve. How was he even to survive the next hour with a cellmate he was almost positive was a deranged lunatic?

Bloo braved a quick glimpse back across the cell and almost immediately he was met with the same unnaturally focused gaze and an unmistakable growl. Automatically the little imaginary friend looked away as he struggled to suppress a sob of terror as he cowered.

His cellmate hadn't said a single word to him since he had been hurled in here half an hour earlier. The unsettlingly quiet fellow had only wordlessly watched the imaginary friend, almost as if he was planning something. The demise of a certain figment, perhaps?

Desperate to keep his overwhelming fear at bay, Bloo whimpered and continued to quiver uncontrollably as he gazed upward at the pale, flickering lights. What could he possibly do? His cellmate was well over twice his size, there wasn't a fish's chance in a frenzy of sharks a measly blob such as himself could actually intimidate such a-

"AAAUUUGGHH!"

Bloo's heart-wrenching scream echoed loudly for all to hear as in the work of a moment, his cellmate abruptly lunged and effortlessly tackled the unsuspecting imaginary friend in mid-thought. Instantly, Bloo found himself helplessly pinned to the floor by the hairy brute, and immediately he became possessed with a sense of indescribable terror. Already half-mad with fright, Bloo wailed hoarsely as he squirmed about wildly in a vain attempt to be free of his captor's tenacious hold.

"What? What is it do you want?" The imaginary friend began to beg shamelessly for his very life. "Oh God, I'll do anything! Anything! Please! Please, I'll do anything you want, any-"

"For Pete's sake, Bloo!" an unmistakably familiar voice suddenly cut in with an annoyed groan. "He just wants to play!"

The second Bloo craned his neck and spotted the lanky young woman in an emerald green sweater peering in between the chain links, he gasped loudly in shock before he started screeching frantically.

"FRANKIE! Frankie, quick! Call the guards! Call the guards! Oh for the love of God, why are you just standing there? Help me! Help me!"

The hysterical imaginary friend continued screaming beseechingly, sounding as if his lungs were about to pop any moment. Despite the untold horror etched upon his features, or the fact his shrill cries were about to rupture her eardrums, Frankie just calmly remained right where she stood on the other side of the barrier, looking not the slightest bit alarmed, although she was obviously quite irritated.

After all, there was really no point at all in worrying when Bloo was only in danger of getting his cheeks slobbered upon.

"So is that one yours?" a squat, balding man inquired kindly as he pointed to the thrashing azure creature screaming bloody murder as he lay pinned under an overly friendly golden retriever. After wordlessly watching the dog continue to lick the genuinely horrified imaginary friend for a few moments, Frankie elicited a drawn-out sigh and nodded wearily to the animal shelter employee.

"Yes…" she answered morosely. "He's mine, all right."

"Okay, Boomer, easy now." The balding man spoke softly to the overexcited retriever as he unlocked the door and entered the small area. "Boomer, down boy! Down! C'mon, the poor thing's had enough, don't-"

Once the dog was grabbed by the collar and gently pulled off, Bloo wasted not a single moment and dashed out towards the familiar redheaded face.

"Frankie!" he gasped, as he was nearly overwhelmed with relief on the spot. "How'd you know I was here? Did you pay my bail yet? Oh my God, this jail's a nightmare, the guards are brutal, the inmates are like wild beasts in-"

Before he could babble on or attempt to wrap his blobby stubs around her skinny legs in a hug of gratitude, the brazenly irritated caretaker roughly snatched him off the ground, whirled about and stormed off in a beeline for the nearest exit.

"I knew I'd find you here." She snarled, her face grew flushed with annoyance. "I knew it, I just knew that you'd-"

"How? The news?" Bloo squeaked from where he lay securely tucked under one arm, and immediately he lit up with excitement. "Was it on the news? Did they catch my arrest on camera? Did they? Huh? Oh, I hope those crooks that nabbed me have what's coming to them! I'm telling you, it was nothing but total police brutality when-"

"A neighbor told me they saw you get picked up by Animal Control." Frankie clarified snappily. "And if they were rough with you, then honestly I think you deserved it."

"What?" Bloo cried resentfully as he was immediately overcome with indignant anger. "Tell me you're joking-"

"Bloo, I told you!" she scolded harshly. "You can't to root around in other people's garbage! You hear me? See, this is what you get for not listening! I told you that some day you'd get caught, but did you actually pay attention to any warnings? Did you? No, of course not! God-forbid you take one second to hear what I have to say. Now c'mon, let's get back home before Mac starts to worry-"

"Hey!" Bloo protested hotly as he trembled with fury. "Why should other people care if I look through their trash? Its not like they actually want it anymore, isn't it? I'm telling you, the second they dump anything outside, they've renounced all ownership! It's not just 'other people's garbage', it becomes public property, and-"

"Public property?" she groaned in disbelief as they exited outside into the parking lot.

"Yeah! And as a member of the public, it's my right to dig about in that waste until I…"

As the imaginary friend argued passionately why it was his Constitutional duty to rummage through others' refuse, the intensely exasperated caretaker suddenly stopped, wordlessly dug out her cell phone and dialed home.

"…Huh?" Mac murmured bewilderedly at the odd question, and for a few second she just gawked wordlessly at the telephone, as if unable to believe what he had just heard through the receiver. "Have I always wanted a dog 'instead?' Instead of what? Frankie, what do you mean you're 'just checking…?

The End