Tommy hopped down the basement steps, cupping Cotton’s fluffy brown and white body tightly in his hand. The hamster squeaked like he was saying “Oof,” with each step. The Christmas music Tommy’s mom played faded away as he descended. Seven days till Christmas
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I creep down the ancient stone hallway, barely containing my anticipation. Months of tracking down clues, solving riddles and dodging hamster attacks are finally bearing fruit. Beyond the door at the end of the hallway lies the Donut of Time, last breakfast artifact I must recover before I can challenge the Hamsters of Doom and stop them from destroying humanity.
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