#but idk what to tag this as
“Whumpee, stop! Give me the knife!”
“I have to - there’s a tracking chip in me and I have to cut it out!”
Caretaker lets go of Whumpee’s arm with one hand and lays it on their cheek to look them in the eye.
“Whumpee, we ran every test we can think of. We x-rayed every inch of you. There’s no tracking chip. Please trust me.”
