Welcome to Makeup Stories. My name is Frankie. Makeup Stories.com if you want to be on the Makeup Stories Club.

Hello and welcome to MakeDup. I'm your host, Amanda. Today's story is a request from Asher.

My name is Asher and I am five years old and I live in Virginia. I want a story about a

pick that has hands, a robot that transforms into a bottle-making machine,

and a trap that falls on you, it turns into a house that you can live inside of.

Thank you, Asher, for that very creative idea. I can't wait to see what happens in the story.

It started, as many things do, on a perfectly ordinary day.

Asher had just polished off a peanut butter and banana sandwich

and was heading out into the woods behind his house

with a trash bag in one hand and a stick in the other.

He called it his picker-upper stick,

good for grabbing stray cans, snack wrappers,

and the occasional soggy sock left behind by hikers

who really should have known better.

Honestly, how does someone lose a single sock?

The forest was quiet except for the soft hum of insects and the distant

rush of the river. Asher liked it that way. He liked the stillness, the green, the little discoveries

hiding under logs and behind tree roots. But today's discovery was bigger than usual. Way bigger. It was a pig. Not just any pig.

This one had gloves on. Well, not exactly gloves. Although Asher had thought they were gloves at first,

but they were hands, actual hands, five fingers wiggling in the air as the pig struggled

to untangle herself from a mess of plastic packaging and broken action figures behind an old

delivery truck that was itself half sunk into the earth. Asher froze. The pig froze. They stared at each other. The pig blinked.

...