You'd better believe it

"You'll need to take better care of it than your last pet." A stern adult male voice rumbles. "It's not like we can flush this one down the toilet."

"We promise, da!" The pair intone, each holding up a hand. Apparently the father agrees because funds exchange hands while the girls coo in pleasure. "What should we name it? What should we make it into? We could use it as a painting board, or maybe get it a leash and collar and take it for walks." Your eyes open wide and you shake your head violently in refusal.

One of the girls begins to pout. "We'll have to train it better, first. Apparently it doesn't know it's place." Somehow, the innocent voice sounds far too threatening to you and you whimper in fear. Your life has taken an even further turn for the worse.

After being poured unceremoniously out of your box and into the trunk of a car, you feel the vehicle begin to move, taking you to whatever your future holds.