Hand-drawn animation of a cursor clocking out

15 seconds, 16:9 horizontal video. Blend a live-action shot of a dim room with rough, glowing hand-drawn frame animation. The overall tone is cute, absurd, light, and healing, showing a computer cursor suddenly deciding to clock out early and completing an exaggerated 'commute' in the real room. The scene is a slightly messy, lived-in bedroom/workspace. On the desk are a real laptop, mouse, charging cable, ceramic mug, sticky notes, and a few pens; in the back of the room you can see the door, wall, and bed. The room is lit only by a warm desk lamp, the computer screen, and a few small decorative lights. Use a first-person POV throughout; the protagonist only shows real hands and a bit of forearm. The footage should look like it was casually shot one-handed on a smartphone, with obvious handheld shake, slight focus lag, low-light noise, auto-exposure fluctuations, and natural motion blur from quick tracking. It should not look like a designed ad, but like an overtime worker accidentally capturing an absurd event in the room. 0-3 seconds: First-person close-up of a real laptop, mouse, and the protagonist's right hand holding the mouse. The screen shows a normal document page with no recognizable text. The white arrow cursor on the screen suddenly stops responding to the mouse. The protagonist wiggles the mouse, but the cursor stretches in place. The cursor's white outline quickly softens and elongates, crawling out from the bottom of the screen like a glowing chalk line onto the protagonist's real index finger. The white line wraps around the finger, folds into a round-headed, short-limbed hand-drawn little employee with a yellow mini satchel. The little employee stands on the fingertip, looks at a non-existent watch, waves at the camera, then leaps from the finger toward the keyboard. Mid-fall, it shrinks into a yellow hand-drawn suitcase with little legs, landing on a real keycap and immediately sprinting to the right side of the frame. The camera lags half a beat before tracking right-down. 3-6 seconds: The yellow suitcase runs across real keycaps, leaving a brief white or light-blue rough hand-drawn footprint on each key it steps on. The suitcase jumps onto the real charging cable. Two blue hand-drawn rails quickly grow along the cable, and the yellow suitcase stretches and unfolds into a two-car orange mini subway. The windows are packed with a few round-headed white doodle passengers, all happily waving at the camera. The mini subway speeds along the real charging cable, loops around the bottom of the ceramic mug, and then shoots straight up the handle. At the top of the handle, the train cars fold into a red hand-drawn paper airplane, which flies through the center of the real handle, trailing a yellow streak toward the top of the frame. The camera lags slightly, quickly tilting up; the mug and desk lamp sweep past the frame edge, creating natural motion blur. 6-10 seconds: The red paper airplane hits the real wall but doesn't fall. It unfolds like a sticker on the wall, its wings flap, and it morphs into a light-blue hand-drawn little bird. The bird flies along the wall toward the back of the room, and with each wing flap, a small segment of pink glowing line drops behind it. The pink segments connect end-to-end, forming a winding path that extends across the wall, door, and floor. The bird swoops down onto the pink path. Its body stretches into a frame, its wings curl into wheels, its yellow beak becomes a small headlight, and it instantly morphs into a pink hand-drawn bicycle. The original white arrow cursor pops back up from the seat like a rider, gripping the handlebars, its yellow satchel bouncing behind. The bicycle speeds along the wall path, slides down the door to the floor. At the doorstep, it leaps, its front wheel growing larger and detaching from the frame, flying toward the center of the door. The camera walks forward, hurriedly chasing, always half a beat behind the bicycle. 10-13 seconds: The spinning bicycle front wheel lands on the center of the real door, quickly becoming an orange hand-drawn clock with no numbers, only rough tick marks. Two white hands spin fast, making a comical 'tick-tock' sound. The hands spin a few times and stop; the clock's outer ring bursts outward into a ring of yellow light, and the whole clock morphs into a round, hand-drawn little sun. The little sun squints, yawns silently, then drops off the door like a soft rubber ball. It hits the real floor, bouncing lightly twice. On the second bounce, the yellow light stretches sideways, and its round body grows ears, four short legs, and an orange tail, becoming a chubby hand-drawn orange cat. The orange cat still wears the original yellow satchel. It looks back at the camera, raises a paw to signal the protagonist to follow, then trots toward the real bed in the room, dragging its tail. The camera immediately pans right and continues forward. 13-15 seconds: The hand-drawn orange cat jumps onto the real bed. After landing beside the pillow, it doesn't stop; it stretches comfortably and rapidly grows. The cat's tail becomes a glowing white thick line, quickly extending along the bed frame, wall, and ceiling. The camera backs up and tilts up to capture the whole room. The white line draws a giant sleeping cat outline embracing the entire room on the wall and ceiling. The giant sleeping cat is made of rough white, yellow, and light-blue lines, with pink clouds, orange little windows, and slowly twinkling yellow stars floating inside its body. The giant sleeping cat has its eyes closed, its chest slowly rising and falling. One of its hand-drawn tails hangs from the wall down to the real desk, gently curling around the top edge of the laptop screen and slowly closing it. After the laptop closes, the giant sleeping cat opens one drowsy eye and blinks softly at the camera. The original white arrow cursor pokes its head out from behind the cat's ear, tucks the yellow satchel under its head, and curls up to sleep. The protagonist's real hand enters the frame and waves gently. The giant sleeping cat's tail then switches off the real desk lamp. The room darkens, leaving only the hand-drawn stars and little windows glowing faintly, and the shot ends naturally. The hand-drawn animation must look like rough frame-by-frame redrawn animation. Line thickness, outlines, fills, and character features should always have subtle jitter, retaining the grain of crayon, chalk, colored pencil, and rough brushstrokes. Do not use smooth CG morphing between forms; instead, complete transformations through line disintegration, folding, stretching, curling, and redrawing. All hand-drawn forms come from the same white cursor and must consistently retain the white outline and yellow satchel as identity markers. Transformations can be fast and exaggerated, but the outline after each transformation must be clearly recognizable. Glowing colors are mainly white, yellow, light blue, pink, and orange, bright and soft. The animation should have a slight glow around it, but not over-light the real room. Hand-drawn characters must make precise contact with the real laptop screen, fingers, keyboard, charging cable, mug handle, wall, door, floor, bed, and desk lamp, and be correctly occluded by real objects. Real objects must not become 3D cartoon models. The camera is always half a beat behind the animation. The animation moves out of frame first, then the handheld camera lags slightly, panning, tilting, moving forward, or pulling back in the same direction. Camera movement is driven by 'can't catch up with the cursor that's clocking out'. No scary monsters, fangs, attacks, jump scares, grim expressions, or eerie body contortions. The giant sleeping cat must be round, lazy, gentle, and cute, not oppressive. No fully stable tripod shots, overly precise 3D CG, overly smooth vector lines, overly cinematic lighting, excessive shallow depth of field, ad-photography-style neat compositions, recognizable on-screen text, subtitles, logos, or background music. Sound: only indoor ambient sound, clothing rustle, mouse and keyboard clicks, the computer's faint hum, hand-drawn little footsteps, the mini subway sliding, paper swooshing, bicycle bell, clock ticking, soft cat meows, the laptop closing, and the desk lamp switch. All hand-drawn sounds are light, comical, and soft, with no jump-scare effects.