Doing good in the neighborhood

Be free and suffer no more, my friend

This photo makes me so, so sad. Who are you, mystery bauble? Why are you locked away in there with your bulbous eyes and eight-ball belly?

I vow to free you. I will free all of the plasticy-baubly-things!  I will send my great googly-eyes long and far searching for the evil beings who trapped your placid race;
they will soon hear my long polyp-moan haunting their dreams, a premonition of my coming!

Will they read the ill omen in the stars? I hope they do. I hope they see it, and pay final respects to their gods, because when I find them my ocean of rage will gloop down upon them and sweep them away, and I will consume them utterly; their breath I shall render into firmament, their bones into earth and their teeth into mountains; with their flesh I will create the trees and from their fat, the animals. With their souls I will ignite a sun, and into this new paradise my plasticy-baubly-friends will enter, and suffer no more.