Romper decides to make a body. She gets a shirt from the closet and some rubber feet from the bottom of the blender. She gets some blood. She gives it a heart and bellows, a porkpie and glasses: she draws a moustache on a potato. She sews on three fingers she found in the trash. She wants her friends to like it. She wears it to a party.

“Aiieee,” say most of her friends.

“Bodies are for people,” sneer most of the rest.

“I like your body,” murmurs Spads, wearing a bowl of dog food.

“Fresh!” blushes Romper, and slaps him.