text: So get this: I’m plunging a toilet. I know that’s not a very good start to a story but bear with me. Bear with me. Plunging a toilet, and right through the bathroom window, *WHOOSH, POW, KRGHINCGNNGGGG,* huge meteorite. Like, basketball-size huge. Little blue dude walks out, about six inches tall. He holds out what looks like an electronic device of some kind. It plays a message that I can’t understand, but it sounds kind of angry. So I stomped him. He made a very satisfying squishing sound, and I also think I heard him say “but friend" right before my foot came down, whatever that means. Still dunno what the message was about. Also dunno if stomping him was a very good idea, because whoever sent him was a little pissed. I think. The first sign was that the next morning, I woke up with three of the fingers on my left hand replaced by Polish sausages, one of which my cat was eating. Second, I noticed that my cat now had jet-black octagons for eyes, which I might ordinarily chalk up to the fact that she’s a demon witch disguised as a cat, but the octagons kept changing colors and whispering that they'd love to eat my lovely space hands, and she usually doesn’t scare me like that. I finished the sausage Kitty was eating because, hey, no getting my fingers back and free breakfast, before getting out of bed. I spotted the third sign that someone was messing with me when I got up. I looked out the window and noticed that the entire world was composed of a triangle, a square, and a tetrahedron, all of whom were arguing that they were the best shape, an argument that got resolved when the tetrahedron turned into a fire hydrant I was peeing on. A purple octopus with three extra tentacles crossed the street and started waving furiously at the fire hydrant and at my zipper, so I started screaming and spinning in circles to ward off the evil presence that it was conjuring from the eighth dimension. That strategy must have worked, because immediately after I stopped, the octopus turned into a woman talking on a cell phone about a crazy who was peeing on hydrants and probably high. Oh my God. *I remembered seeing someone doing that earlier!* I knew I needed to do my civic duty, so I took off racing up the street to hunt the crazy guy down. A cop car passed by, and I didn’t want to get arrested for conspiracy to be a vigilante, so I climbed into a tree and hid. It was so comfortable that I ended up staying for over four hours, and just as I started to get hungry, a squirrel sang “happy birthday” to me and invited me to his home inside the tree trunk. I forgot it was my birthday! It was so nice of him to remind me, and I was really hungry, so I took him up on the offer. At first, I was worried I wouldn’t fit, but the trunk expanded to make a door-sized opening and I stepped inside. The squirrel, whose name is Dave, is a really good cook. We had chicken parmigiana and homemade wine, which reminded me of priests, for some reason. Unfortunately, the door disappeared right after dinner. Long story short, I’ve been stuck in a pocket universe trapped inside a tree trunk for over four years. I figured out dimensional tunneling and took control of the dude who owns this Reddit account to ask for help. For the love of God, if anyone reads this, the tree is on 427 Widmar Way, somewhere by Polar street. Knock on the trunk three times, remove your pants, grow a third arm, shave your left eyebrow, and sing happy birthday backwards to open the gate. Ask for Dave. Also, if you could bring my meds along when you come to look for me, I’d really appreciate it. I think I might have just started having an episode.