Every character has a job inside your body — and a story to tell. Tap a face to hear their story.
Stethoscope
Sally has listened to more heartbeats than there are stars in the sky, and every single one sounds like a tiny drum saying, "You've got this!" She's the first friend you meet — crayon in hand, ready to turn big, confusing grown-up words into something that actually makes sense.
Her superpower: making scary words feel small.
Appendix
Alex is a teeny pouch who lives in the bottom-right corner of your tummy. For the longest time nobody was quite sure what his job was — and honestly, neither was Alex! But he learned something important: even the smallest part of you can be super brave. When it's his turn for a big adventure, he waves goodbye with a great big smile, because he knows you'll feel so much better once he's on his way.
Brave comes in small sizes.
Tonsils
Tina (she's the one with the bow) and Tony are twins who stand guard at the very back of your throat, catching sneaky germs like two goalies blocking every shot. But all that hard work can wear a pair of tonsils out, and sometimes they need a well-earned break. When they do, the twins high-five each other — because they know cozy blankets and all the popsicles you can eat are on the way.
Two tiny goalies, one great team.
Eardrum
Echo is a teeny-tiny drum tucked deep inside your ear, and every sound you love — your favorite song, your best friend's laugh — makes Echo go boom-ba-boom! But when sticky fluid gets stuck behind him, the whole world sounds muffly, like you're listening from underwater. A tiny helper tube lets the fluid drain right out, and before long Echo is drumming loud and clear again.
Ready to hear the world, one beat at a time.
Eyes
Iris and Seymour are twins who do absolutely everything together — except look at things. Every eye has six tiny muscles that turn it left, right, up and down, and when one twin's muscles pull a little harder than the other's, the two of them end up pointing in different directions. Doctors call that strabismus. It means Seymour sometimes wanders off to look at the ceiling while Iris is looking right at you! A doctor can gently adjust those tiny muscles so the twins finally aim at the very same thing at the very same time.
Two eyes, one team — learning to look the same way.