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AN D Â Â W EL COME Â TO Â T HE Â
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EEYYYYYYY happy thanksers ro!!!!!!!!
Okay I gotta keep moving.
What does thIS do?
..................
wha t
What, you think this is a game? What kind of operation do you think I'm running here?Â
The bag stays until further notice. For reasons I'm sure I will regret later.Â
This? It's an autographed picture of the Loch Ness monster.Â
What else would it be.Â
Well that's the thing about trees. Most of them gave their speaking rights over to the Lorax in the treaty of '71. It's a silent protest kind of a thing--pacifists.
Passively lazy, I say.Â
And what good does the Lorax do? He plays poker with the enemy and sleeps in tree stumps. Bit of a weirdo if you ask me. What if he's Canadian.Â
That's why I got.....uh--I mean--that's why IÂ left. The forest. I speak for myself.Â
What thneed? I can't see anything. There's a bag on my face you snozzberry.Â
.............................
But even if there was some material of dubious origin on my left, I can't read your mind. Maybe you think it's made of some kind of decorative buckwheat pasta. Cilantro. How would I know.Â
wOW--amAZING--your deductive skills are inCREDIBLE!! I'M STILL A TREE.Â
You had all that power, all the ability to wreak havoc on my existence and you just...wow. What sorcery.Â
I'm flabbergasted--I'm really curious--do you change species every time you get a haircut? (...or...run into a chainsaw?)Â
..............
Fine--you know what--if my face bothers you tHAT much--I'll just--
--there. Magical. Simply magical.Â
What? Doomed? Doomed is for the rest of the world, friends. Don't tell me you bros are tired of this physiognomy--this wizardry of biology. Bungalow! My tufts shall indeed grow back, but all in good time--
I--pardon? ...H-Human? No...no you misunderstand..
...this is just my face..just a tuft-cut...I'm still...
Look at all the splendor of this white space! It's so grand--so plush, so opulent, so...
...........
So..unbelievably empty. Hm. Jeremy must have gone off on that submarine again.Â
...
Oh well--back to business, I guess. I've got a hat to reclaim, physics to break, a new world order to spur...and it's already noon. No time for this nowhere land nonsense.Â
Because he is a dumbass
Because he is trapped in a psychedelic wasteland and he likes to try my patience.
There's no way for him to get out.
...
..except--perhaps through the hole I just made in his blog...I..um..
Hmm..
...
..oH WELL--it's not like this is some important plot point or anything--I'm sure there will be no hazardous or apocalyptic repercussions because of one tiny hole in the internet.Â
..Well...pretty sure.Â
hEY--speaking of psychedelic wastelands--welcome to the Outside!Â
Yeah, well, I definitely had my suspicions. Your rather dramatically worded explanation only served to confirm them.
Still, the way I see it, you really have no need for that door. Your house itself already contains the entrances to practically every other dimension out there. The only way it may prove useful is if you had an alternate way of entering the blank space, and even then, it would simply be to provide a short cut back to your own home.
Anyway, it’s a moot point. We both know that that’s quite impossible.
Heh.
Nevertheless…
I’ve placed your front door back where I last found it. I’d suggest hurrying on back. I doubt it will stay there long.
Moot point? Impossible?! Really, Cipher, you should consider tastier words.Â
Like "duck soup" or "facillimus," or even--
--"piece of cake."
Thanks for the door, Mr. Doomsayer, guess I'll be on my way.
Oh, just been floating around and stealing doors. Nothing too interesting, I assure you. There isn’t exactly a lot to do here.
….
What about you? You hardly ever use your front door.
..You know you're right I really don't use it that much.
Well of course through the various laws of time, space, visual gags, etc...all the doors inSIDE the house lead to anyplace imaginable. (All hand built, by the way.)
I only use the front door if I have to get away from some bothersome paradox, or in this case, if a certain hat burglar is hopelessly lost in the mix.
It leads to the outside--the true outside--a white nothingness as far as the eye can see. Just a blank horizon and a single door back into existence.
It works as a short-cut: exit into white space, and re-enter to anywhere you please.
...but you knew that.Â
For your information, I didn’t spike it with anything. I was just trying to be polite. Something, I imagine, you have very little experience with.
Anyway, I guess it’s for the best.
I doubt reali-tea would be your sort of thing anyway.
Also, a word of advice. If you really want to find out where I hid your door, I’d suggest not using that tone with me. You’ll be eating those poorly chosen words in a minute if you continue.
Oh--right--you openly admit that you've stolen my door. Yes, where are my manners.Â
........................................
...Alright keep your hair-shine on, I'll eat them.Â
But I'll have you know, "squidtongued" is a delicious word.Â
...
Anyway, what exactly have you been up to in this subspace of yours?
It's been a while.Â
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚
Behold: the prince and her tree
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚
whhAT BLASPHEMIC SCANDALMONGERING IS THIS--??
???/??
WHHHHHhhhhhhhh---I...
is that a mantis shirt
(ノ´ー`)ノ deer tree
I...
there's a pun here, I just know it.