Neverland, what kind of dumb name was that for a place? He debated asking how children were supposed to fly there but came to the conclusion it was under the same influence that he found himself under now. Darn pushy fairies. Timon glanced over at her, felt Tinkerbell brush up against the side of his face, but continued to face forward. He hadn’t the courage to turn to look at her, especially when she was so close. It made him nervous when he could so easily contract cooties.

And that was exactly what he suspected the pixie of doing when she reached to touch his nose; infect him with cooties. As instructed, Timon came to a dead stop and watched, practically cross eyed, as her magic began to work. There had been little room left to argue, the throbbing in his nose having vanished as quickly as the glow that had surrounded it. He reached to touch it experimentally before sneezing.

“What did you do?” he asked in astonishment. “You didn’t give me cooties, did you?”