You decide to take Blowtorch with you.

At first, the idea of taking an action figure with you seemed silly. Then again, you never know when you'll have to bribe another monster. You grab the mint-in-box figure and leave the janitor's office.

As you walk down the hall, you notice that your shoelaces have come undone. Better take care of them now so that you're ready in case you get chased by any heinous creatures. You set down the action figure and start reciting the old shoe-tying rhyme. It's funny, you think to yourself, how that limerick is just as useful now as it was when you learned it four years ago. Halfway through the "loop-de-loop" part, you realize that you set the Blowtorch action figure down on a lump of slime on the floor. You curse your own foolishness, as well as the shoe-tying rhyme for distracting you.

Looking around for something to scrape the goo off the packaging, you feel a faint stirring. Almost as though the little plastic man was trying to get out. Well, it wouldn't be the strangest thing to happen to you tonight. You risk severely reducing the value of the toy by opening it up:

"Oh, thanks, man. It was getting awfully cramped in there."

The talking action figure introduces himself as Blowtorch, and begins reciting all the information from the card on the back of the packaging. You sit through all of it, wondering why anyone would put so much backstory into a toy. When he finally finishes, you ask him if he knows anything about what's going on around the mansion. He responds with a long story about fighting Cobra, and how flamethrowers are better than lasers. Before you can pass out from boredom, you hear a peal of derisive laughter coming from the shadows. A figure emerges, and Blowtorch responds with a simple, "you!"

"So, still finding ways to bore people with tales of the old days, eh Blowtorch?"

"Charbroil, what are you doing here?" You were wondering about that as well, but you'd be more interested to learn how these toys have been coming to life. No answers are forthcoming:

"Never mind that. It's time we settled our old score. It's time we found out who is the hottest!"

You don't like where this is headed. Two plastic figurines trying to act hot, and both of the dudes? Sick, man! Instead of striking poses, the two of them draw their respective flamethrowers. Looks like the poor, deluded toys are going to compare their plastic guns.

"Ha, your puny flamethrower can't melt through my fire suit, Charbroil!"

"Hey, that's my line! Minus the 'Chairboil' bit. En garde!"

The two of them unleash some very real, very large, and very hot flames. They're aiming at each other, but they can't help but douse you as well. Both figures melt under the intense heat, but Blowtorch melts slightly slower. He gurgles out a victory cry before being reduced to a puddle. Good for him, you muse. Now if only you could do something about the napalm eating through your torso.

WHY NOT SLIP INTO SOMETHING A LITTLE MORE FIERY AND START OVER!!!