The Color of Thinking

NARRATOR:
Welcome back to the Metropolitan Museum of Toys and Childhood Artifacts—where the lights dim, the doors lock, and the exhibits do what exhibits are not supposed to do.

[SFX: A security door clicks shut.]

NARRATOR (cont.):
Tonight, our night watchman makes his rounds with a thermos of tea, a sensible flashlight, and the quiet confidence of a man who believes no object smaller than a breadbox could possibly ruin his evening.

[SFX: Footsteps. Keys jingle softly.]

NIGHT WATCHMAN (EBENEZER SMITH):
All right, Mr. Museum… let’s see what you’ve got for me tonight. No juggling dolls. No ventriloquist dummies practicing stand-up. No remote-control cars attempting a heist.

[SFX: He stops walking. The ambience hushes slightly.]

NIGHT WATCHMAN (cont.):
Oh. The Digital Fads case.

NARRATOR:
A glass display case labeled “Pocket Companions: 1990s–2000s.” Inside: a pager, a flip phone, a tiny handheld game, and—resting on a velvet stand like a jewel—an egg-shaped plastic keychain with three little buttons.

[SFX: A tiny electronic “BEEP-BEEP!”]

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
…No.

[SFX: “BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!” intensifies.]

NIGHT WATCHMAN (cont.):
Absolutely not. We are not doing this tonight. I remember you. I remember the… the neediness.

NARRATOR:
The night watchman leans closer. The little screen glows with a pixelated face that looks… concerned. Accusatory. Dramatic.

[SFX: “BEEP!” a little sadder now.]

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Fine. All right. Rule of the museum: if you’re going to speak, you tell me your name and what you are. No mysterious beeping from the shadows. Understood?

[SFX: One polite beep. Then a short, proud chime.]