Slappy- Broken Finger

Slappy’s mouth slid wide open—and then it clamped shut on Mr. Plame’s pointer finger.
The teacher uttered a sharp cry. He grabbed the dummy’s head and tried to pry his finger free. But Slappy’s wooden lips remained shut tightly over it.
“Owwwww. This really hurts!” he cried.
He tried to twist his finger free. Then he gave a hard pull—and I heard a loud craaack.
“I … I think my finger’s broken,” Mr. Plame said. His face was flaming red now and twisted in pain.
He turned to me. “Barton—do something.” He tried to shove the dummy at me. But Slappy’s wooden lips were clamped tightly over the finger.
Kids were shouting and crying out in surprise.
I wrapped my hands around Slappy’s head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Plame,” I said. “It’s an old dummy. I think the controls may be broken.”
I shoved my hand into Slappy’s back and fumbled around until I found the mouth control. “I think the mouth spring is busted,” I said.
I knew it wasn’t the mouth spring. I knew it was Slappy being vicious.
But I had to pretend he was like a normal dummy.
I tugged the string inside his back … tugged it … tugged it—and Slappy’s mouth finally sprang open.
Mr. Plame sighed loudly and shook his finger in the air. It was red and swollen like a sausage. He jumped to his feet. “I’m going to run down the hall and see the nurse. I’m sure my finger is broken.”

- My Friend Slappy, chapter 25