It had been by some strange occurrence that the power to 're-create' monsters had been introduced to Stine; a slip of the hand if he were to be honest. It had all been started when Stine- now a young adult- or so he felt at the age of twenty seven, was once more reviewing his latest work; though, to his displeasure, as he skimmed the pages, he discovered an error in his grammar.

Now being one for perfection, he simply had to make it right. Sitting in front of his trusted type writer, he pulled the freshly written page and sat it to the side. With nimble, type calloused fingers, he opened the manuscript book and felt the familiar chill as the monster from inside was released. But to his shock, and curiosity, the monster- the yeti- remained frozen where it stood when the pages of the manuscript were removed- as if time were stopped. Trading out the errored page, Stine once more bound the book and watched as the yeti began to move about, as if the time of being frozen never happened. As Stine gazed upon his newly created monster he found himself staring at the spot above the creatures left breast, a scar had been there before, now was gone. As if it simply was never there… or never written in… It was at that moment that Stine began to form an idea…

"Honestly, I don't know what she's complaining about! She gets full range of the house and gets free range of the outside world! It's not fair!" A male voice cried in displeasure from the living room, a very strong, demanding voice that belonged to no other than Slappy- Stines most famous, and well loved 'monster'. The Dummy lay sprawled out on the couch, his arms crossed over his black buttoned down jacket with his legs splayed open from where he had 'plopped' down. His usual brown eyes were glowing green with envy and rage as he complained once more to his creator. "She leaves the house and it's A-OKAY YIPPEE SKIPPY! But when I do it's the end of the world!"

Stine glanced up from his work behind his type writer and sighed, running a hand through his dark, chocolate colored hair. This was the third time he had to stop his typing to pay attention to his beloved creation, but as much as he loved hearing Slappy talk, it was truly getting tiresome. Resuming his typing of the corrected page, Stine responded back, "Well maybe it's because Hannah doesn't feel the need to cause chaos when she goes outside. But I told you once, and I'll tell you again, I'm working on fixing this."

"That's another thing! How do I know you aren't going to rip my book to shreds?" Slappy's eyes narrowed as he sat up, his brows flicking downwards in distrust. "You're not trying to get rid of me are you? Because you promised-"

"Enough!" Stine snapped, removing his reading glasses as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Slappy, I promise you, will all my heart and soul; I will not destroy your book. You have to learn to trust me!"

A soft 'humph' was all the Dummy made for noise as it flopped back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. The soft clicking of keys resumed as Stine set himself back into his work- the house was now quiet- only the soft clicks of keys and the sound of the old Grandfather Clock could be heard in that late midnight hour. The lights were dimly lit, and the glow of the full moon trickled in through the old lace curtains. It was moments like these that Stine could really feel the magic of both the world and his writing coming together.

Not one to be ignored or left out, Slappy had slipped himself off the couch, walking somewhat lazily over to where his 'Papa' sat writing, hoisting himself with difficulty up onto the old wooden desk so that he could watch Stine work. It was moments like these that the creature finally didn't feel the urge to destroy or ruin, only to watch and observe. He noticed things most 'brainless' creatures didn't- the way Stine's brow would furrow when he searched for the right words, the way he would purse his lips when he succeeded, and especially the way Stine smiled- revealing his unusually pearly white teeth and joy when he finally came to the end of each well written page. It was possibly these traits that Slappy found himself falling in love with- resulting in him falling in love with the man behind the type writer.

"You're going to love this." Stine breathed as he turned his attention to his creation, holding the freshly typed paper with joy, his eyes twinkling in the dim lighting. "Now Slappy, I need you to sit very still and just relax, okay? Can you do that for me?"

"I'm not a child, sitting still and being relaxed is engraved in me." Slappy snapped sarcastically, though he was both over joyed and filed with dare he say fear at the prospect of being 'altered'. In a dramatic manner he sat at the edge of the desk, swinging a leg over the other and rested his hands in his lap, staring in a lifeless manner at the wall.

"Smart ass." Stine mumbled, rolling his hazel eyes as he took out the key to Slappy's manuscript book from his shirts breast pocket, carefully undoing the lock and opening the book- quickly undoing the sides and removing the pages. An eerie chill entered the room, the lights flickering as if about to go out, and for the first time in a long time Slappy truly looked like dummy- a dummy with nothing special about it other than its eyes that seemed to cry out in terror.

"I'm sorry, dear friend." Stine whispered as he flipped through the pages, looking for the right page to be swapped out. It felt like an eternity, the house too quiet, too still for the writers liking. Worry nagged on Stine's stomach as he finally found the page, pulling it from the pile and replacing it with the newly written, putting the neatened pile back into the manuscript book and locking the binding into place. Closing the book and re-opening it he watched with bated breath as the room slowly lost its sudden chill, the lights no longer flickering, and Slappy- well, no longer sitting on the edge of the desk.

"Oww…what the hell was that?!" Slappy's voice called out in outrage, only to be followed by a panicked, "It worked?! Please tell me it worked!"

Stine was all too quick to look over the table, his eyes widening in both relief and delight to see the all too human looking Slappy laying on the floor in a heap. Though if Stine was to be honest, he couldn't help but feel his heart skip a beat at the very handsome looking human creation now sitting up, staring intently at its own hands and feeling out its now fleshy face.

"How do I look? Don't gawk at me! Help me up!" Slappy demanded, shakily getting to his knees, unused to the sudden height and weight differences in his body. A soft green flush dusted Slappy's cheeks, his eyes flashing from brown to emerald when Stine's hands helped to hoist him up. With timid, stumbling steps, Slappy had Stine help him over to the oval mirror that hung on the furthest wall of the room, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of himself.

He was not quite as tall as Stine, but now stood at a proud 5'4 with wavy chest nut colored hair that was parted to the side, a scar marking his somewhat pointed and slimmed nose and chin. His usual suit was on, though a bit more form fitting on his human body then his puppet, other than a slimmer build, and no puppet jaw markings, he looked still the same as he had before.

"If you don't like it, you can always change back whenever you want, I gave you that power too-" Stine's words were caught off when Slappy had physically turned around, silencing his creator with a kiss as his arms wrapped around him.

Though Stine had always loved and enjoyed his kisses with his creation before, there was something uniquely different yet familiar with the kiss that Slappy was pressing to his lips. It was a thrilling change to feel soft, warm lips on Stine's own, a familiar warm tongue tracing his bottom lip before unfamiliar teeth nipped down on it gently. The feeling of larger, yet familiar hands running down his back made Stine arch foreword, their chests touching as the former puppet pulled back, winking before whispering, "Let's try it all out, shall we?"