The magical stuffed orca. In the dusty back corner of Mrs. Puddlewick's Curiosity Shop,

squeezed between a jar of glow-in-the-dark pickles and a suspiciously angry-looking teapot,

there sat a stuffed toy orca. Its name, according to the tag, was Sir Wobbleflop the Third.

It had button eyes, a wonky grin, and one flipper sewn upside down.

It looked like something a three-year-old might have made during a sugar rush.

No one ever bought Sir Wobble Flop.

He'd sat there on the same shelf for 12 long years.

That is, until a boy named Milo wandered in one rainy afternoon with £3.27 and a deep hatred

of being bored. That one, Milo said. Mrs. Puddlewick peered over her enormous glasses.

Oh, the orca? Brave choice. Bit strange. I like strange, said Milo. He paid his £3.27, stuffed so wobble

flop into his backpack, and ran, unaware that he just purchased the most dangerous object in Pebble Thorpe.

At first, Sobobbleflop was just a stuffed toy. Milo threw it at his little sister. He used it as a pillow. He tried to balance it on the ceiling fan, which ended badly. But that night, as the clock struck midnight, something extraordinary happened. The toy moved. One flipper twitched, then another. Its button eyes glowed faintly blue,

and then, in a deep, majestic voice that seemed far too serious for something covered in fluff,

it said, Greetings Land Creature, I am Sir Wobbleflop the Third,

"'guardian of the deep,

"'conqueror of the abyss,

"'and champion of squishy cuteness.'

"'Milo screamed and fell out of bed.

"'Do not fear,' boomed Sir Wobbleflop.

"'You have awoken my magic, and with it, my destiny.

What destiny? Milo stammered.

To save the ocean, said the orca, and possibly also destroy all humanity, depending on how the next few days go.

...