Eevee invited Pikachu to sleep over in her barn. Up in the hayloft there was a bed of hay for the two of them. Pikachu poked it with one finger. "It's not like this at my house," he said. "My bed is smooth."
The hay prickled his back. Pikachu let out a spark to flatten it. Poof! Hay flew everywhere, and Eevee ended up round and fluffy like a dandelion puff.
Eevee brought him her pillow: a sack of oats. It crunched. "It's not like this at my house," said Pikachu. "My pillow is soft." Eevee pushed the sack into a corner and said nothing.
The barn went creak. The wind went whooo. Up on the beam, Hoothoot went hoo, hoo. "It's not like this at my house," said Pikachu. "At my house it's quiet."
Eevee had nothing else to bring. Pikachu folded his blanket and went to the ladder. "I'm going home," he said. Eevee did not ask him to stay.
Eevee turned around three times in the hay and lay down curled up like a little doughnut. In the middle she left a hollow. "At my house we sleep like this," she said, "all in a heap." The hollow was exactly the size of a Pikachu.
Pikachu went down one rung. He came up two. He climbed into the hollow, and Eevee covered his nose with her tail. The hay didn't prickle anymore. The creak and the whooo sounded very far away. And the two of them fell asleep.
In the morning, Pikachu went home with a wisp of hay on his ear. That night his bed was smooth. His pillow was soft. It was very, very quiet.
Pikachu turned around once. He turned around again. He curled up like a little doughnut all by himself, but there was nobody in the middle. "It's not like this at my house," he said very softly.
Knock, knock. There at the door was Eevee, with hay on her tail. She looked at the smooth bed and the soft pillow. "It's not like this at my house," said Eevee. She turned around three times, left a hollow, and from then on that is how it was in both houses.
