I love living in Miss C.'s room.

There's no smelly barn, no scratchy hay here. Just pure, bovine bliss.

What happened to me?

Miss C. keeps telling me I'm Disneyland Castle. But if I am, where's Main Street U.S.A. and Fantasyland? And why can't I hear Snow White singing in her grotto?

Something is very wrong. Very, very wrong.

Man, I'm wiped out!

Bears simply aren't meant to do housework.

What do you think you're doing in here?

You'd better go find your match before Miss C. comes back. You know she doesn't let anyone in the box without a match.

This isn't a singles joint. Beat it before Miss C. finds you and kicks you out.

My name is Cookie Monster.

It's not Apple Monster or Healthy Snack Monster.

Get it right people! I've got an image to uphold.

Crayon overboard!

Quick! Somebody throw that little guy a life preserver!

This place is a veritable black hole. If we don't get him back into the box, he'll be lost forever!

I just spent the morning lounging on the couch.

A bear could get used to this.

Neener neener.

Master W. picked me today. Not you.

Eat your heart out, tiny cars!

Everything is 40 inches.

Her leg. Her arm. His head. His height.

The result is always the same when Miss C. is in charge.

Weeeeeeee!

This is fun!