I, a nondescript man, was happily scribbling away at my desk, surrounded by towers of tabletop RPG books, when I felt a presence enter my home, a presence I have not felt since-...
I swiftly turn to the heavy, early-Edwardian wooden door. The eerie shade of terror colored my imagination as the sound of twisted nails dragging across the wood came from the other side.
What hideous monstrosity lay in wait? I pictured a maw of needle-like teeth, oozing with viscous drool that glistened in the light, and dark, sunken eyes, devoid of light and life.
Cautiously, and armed with a canister of bear spray, which was essentially pepper spray on steroids, I approached the door.
When I threw the door open, I was surprised to see nothing standing in the hall. After many long years, the scent of cigar smoke lingered in the walls of the building, a feature I have always found rather charming. I find that it complements my own sandalwood-like odor.
I glance down at the wooden floor, and I spot a sock.
Suddenly, a pair of googly eyes pop out of the sock, and it stands up to ankle height.
Then, a toothy grin curled upon its muppety lips, revealing rows upon rows of sharp teeth.
"Cooky the Sock Puppet!?"
"So you're the human Maine." Cooky noted. "I thought you'd be taller. I brought someone along."
Cooky pointed their sock face into the apartment, and I saw an opossum digging through my books.
"An opossum?" I wondered, repeating the previous gag. When it threw on a red flannel shirt, I screamed, "Kenji the Opossum!?"
"Wait, your last name's Silv-?" The cat-sized critter began before I hastily interrupted him.
"Yes, yes, now put that down! How'd you guys get here?
"You live in Canada." Cooky explained. "It's not hard getting in. Oh, there's one more."
I let out an exasperated groan, for who else could they have possibly brought illegally across the border.
Standing in the hallway was a completely normal guy.
"Dude, seriously?" Raisans said.
@raisansgrapeon @artsycooky13 @kenji-arts
