"No touching the merchandise! I'm still fresh!" Barnaby squeaked. "Now, if you don't mind, this desk is incredibly boring. Why don't you draw us a tiny sports car? I'd like to see the world."
He turned his head toward his inkwell. Standing right on the rim of the glass jar was Barnaby. He was three-dimensional, perfectly inked, and completely alive. The tiny mouse tipped his top hat toward Arthur, leaning casually on his drawn cane. cartoonist
Arthur froze, convinced he was dreaming. He reached out a finger to touch the mouse, and Barnaby swat it away playfully with his cane. "No touching the merchandise
"The line work on my left leg is a bit heavy, don't you think?" Barnaby asked, his voice sounding like the squeak of a wet marker on a whiteboard. "But overall, a splendid job, Creator!" Why don't you draw us a tiny sports car
He blew on the wet ink to help it dry, resting his head on his arms for just a moment to close his eyes.
Arthur blinked his eyes open. He looked down at the paper. The panel where he had drawn Barnaby was completely blank. "What on earth..." Arthur muttered, rubbing his eyes. Tap-tap-tap.
Arthur stared at the living cartoon, picked up his pencil with a shaking hand, and began to draw a steering wheel.