Regina Bletchley arrived early at Mr. Brown’s party, as she planned on leaving early to get home. Such a waste of money on display, and she knew there was much more to come. She noticed, for a moment, the green ballerina doll and saw a quiet spark in its face, before moving on. She wasn’t here to admire simple toys, or even to buy them. She deposited her present among the red boxes, and turned to see Mr. Brown himself.

“Regina, so wonderful you could make it. And, as generous as ever, I see,” he said, noting the small gift among the giant boxes.

“Mr. Brown, as ostentatious as ever. Don’t you get tired of this charade?”

“Oh, there’s no charade; I truly love to give back to the community.”

“You mean get everyone else to give up give back to the community in your name.”

That earned a small chuckle from Mr. Brown. “Well, it’s for the good and benefit of everyone, I assure you.”

“Oh, come off it, George. There’s no one around to impress. From what I hear, you aren’t in a position to spend this much on frivolities. But please, keep it up, and in a few years, maybe I can buy your business for Christmas.”

Regina smiled as she moved over to a table of snacks and treats, picking up a walnut, breaking it in her hand. Mr. Brown kept his pleasant smile, but she could see the way he clenched his fingers in frustration.

“Let’s talk about something, anything other than business, shall we?” he said, joining her. “We’ve known each other for a long time, but we’ve never really gotten to know each other. What do you like to do?”

“I like to think about business,” Regina said flatly, uninterested.

Mr. Brown paused again, thinking on what to say next. “Do you like nutcrackers Regina?” He didn’t wait for inevitable derisive snort before continuing. “I never cared much for them myself, but one of my friends, he’ll be here tonight, loves to collect them. Big ones, small ones, nutcrackers from all over the world. But you know, his favorite are the nutcrackers that come unpainted. He takes the time to work on them, to give them personality, color.”

“What’s your point, Mr. Brown?” Regina asked, quite bored already.

“Only that, I hope he gives you a better personality than you have now.” He said, lightly tapping on Regina’s shoulder. “This will be an opportunity for you, I think.”

Before Regina could bat Mr. Brown’s hand away, her arms suddenly went rigid to her sides. She panicked as her body began to creak woodenly as she changed, and her joints stiffened. Her mouth gaped as she had to look up, and up some more, to see Mr. Brown.

When it was over, only her face retained any color, her lips still painted red, her eyes still blue. She was locked in an unmoving body, except for the cracking mechanism built into her. There were un-toylike thoughts dimming in her mind, the cooling embers of a life lived in a cutthroat business; a life Regina needn’t worry about anymore. She would not come alive again until an Owner imbued her with life.

Mr. Brown set Regina among the presents where she could be a toy to be donated. And, by being donated, she would help Mr. Brown out of his debt.