God I love my couch. And my cat. And pizza. I can’t wait for that pizza. Hope it’s not one of those annoying pizza deliverers though. You know, those ones with the whiney voices and faces that look like the pizza they’re delivering? The ones that always want to have a conversation? I hate those ones with a passion. Although, if you can stand them for long enough, sometimes you can get away with not paying them. Their only redeeming quality is their stupidity. And there goes the doorbell. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. I wonder if that actually works? Like if I thought about him, or her, enough then they would appear in front of me. Or behind me. Or just next to me. And what would Lucifer look like? Would it be the traditional red-horned, cloven-hooved demonic overlord? Or would they be more of the human looking type? I mean, technically speaking, “the devil” is an angel. An archangel in fact. Sure Lucifer is a fallen one, but he isn’t a demon. He just created them. So sad that people always get that wrong. I wonder what the pizza boy thinks. Or maybe it’s a pizza girl. Nope, it’s a boy. A pizza-faced boy. With a whiney voice. Who wants to talk. I want my pizza. My black olive and mushroom pizza. Goodbye whiney, pizza-faced boy. I refuse to pay you. You’re late anyway. You should have been here thirty seconds ago. Mmm, smell that cheesy goodness. Hear that piercing whistle. Watch the cat run away. She’s always been scared of sudden noises. You’d think she would have gotten used to the kettle after all these years. I mean really. She hears it everyday. Multiple times. ‘Cause what can I say? I like me a good cuppa. But you know who make the best cuppa? Mrs. Hudson. I’ve never had it myself, but if the reactions of John Watson and Sherlock are anything to go by then it must be good. My cat would probably love Mrs. Hudson. She likes eating just about anything, and since Mrs. Hudson likes to cook, there would be plenty for her to eat. Speaking of eating. I am going to eat this pizza. Maybe I should do it Dirk Gently style. Take one half of the pizza at a time, roll it up, and eat it. Then again, that would take two hands and I don’t feel like taking off my socks. So slice by slice it is! Hope Doctor Who’s on. I think it’s around that time on the BBC. No! There’s no Doctor Who! They’ve just got reruns from Death in Paradise! And it’s not even the good season! Come on, PBS. You’re my only hope. And you have pulled through! Thank you Public Broadcasting Channel! Red Dwarf, baby! All the way! Hell yeah! It’s cold outside, there’s no kind of atmosphere! I’m all alone, more less! Let me fly, far far away from here! God I love this show! Maybe even as much as Doctor Who. But I’m not sure. Doctor Who was my first love and I can’t betray my first love with a slightly younger show. They’re both older than me, but still. I’m sorry Lister, the Doctor wins. This tea tastes funny. Oh, wait, that’s not tea. It’s a fizzy drink. Why? I didn’t put that there. I don’t like fizzy drinks. I really don’t...fizzy…yeah. I’m tired. I’m never tired. I don’t sleep. I haven’t slept my entire life. I’m just...gonna close...my eyes.

Now, normally, I don’t believe in sleep. To me it’s one of those far-fetched ideas that can’t ever really be achieved. So you can see how when I woke up, I was very discombobulated. Normally I’d just black out after a week or two and then go about my day as if nothing had happened. Like I had just closed my eyes. Though it might have been a day later. After I woke u-, no, opened my eyes. After I opened my eyes, I, like any other curious person, looked around. I was still sitting on my couch, that’s a good start. I still have my tea, even better. I’m not in my house, okay. Wait, no, not okay. Not being in my house is not okay. I like my tiny, little house. Not being in my house means people. I don’t like people. Well, I don’t like human people. Other people are fine. Like my cat. She’s people and she’s great. I wish I had my cat. But she was on the other side of the room, so I don’t think she got pulled along with me to, well, wherever I am. Speaking of which, I should probably get off of the couch and explore. But I don’t want to, the couch is comfy. And out there is probably cold. And wet. I hate getting wet. Watching everything else get wet is great, but I can’t abide by getting wet myself. I don’t know, it looks dry enough. The floor is stone though. It’s probably really cold. I do have my socks on. Should I brave it? I’ll brave it. Let me grab my tea first. There we go. I was right. It’s cold. But dry. I’m bored. I’m gonna sit on my couch. My couch is gone. That’s bad. Where the hell is my couch?! I think there’s something on the ground. Yep. It’s a piece of paper. Boring. It says some stuff about a labyrinth. So what, am I in a movie? Does David Bowie have my cat? Are a bunch of goblins gonna start singing? Think it said something about a time limit to. Like an hour or so. Oh! It also said I can’t touch the walls. That’s stupid. Why can’t I touch the walls? What you don’t want me climbing them or somethin’? I’m too lazy to do that anyways. It would take too much effort. I’d rather sit around on my couch watching Red Dwarf. Just like I was doing before I closed my eyes. I wonder where that fizzy drink came from? Where did my pizza go? I think I ate my pizza. Still. By now my cat’s probably ate the rest of it if there was anything left. She really will eat anything. I bet she would eat this maze if she were here. I would go explore myself, but I don’t feel like getting lost. I have a terrible sense of direction. I get lost in my own house! And its tiny! That shouldn’t be possible! But maybe I’ll find more tea. Do these things have tea? I think there was a maze in Alice in Wonderland. Maybe I’ll end up finding the Mad Hatter! He’d have tea for certain! And we could celebrate everyone’s merry unbirthdays! That would be fun, but I doubt it’ll happen. He’s also people. A more fun variety of people. But human people nonetheless. I guess I’ll go. What can I lose now? I shouldn’t have asked that. You should never ask that. It’s like it automatically invites bad things to happen. It’s like a challenge to whatever’s listening to make your day as horrid as possible. Though, I gotta say, it’s not that bad in here. It doesn’t smell terribly odorous. It’s not at all damp and moldy. It’s not especially dark. I can’t see the sun, but it’s actually pretty well lit. I think I might rather enjoy this. If I could figure out where to go. It seems as though I keep passing the same piece of corridor over and over. Maybe I should just walk towards the wall. I bet this is just gonna be some cheap rip-off of that scene from Labyrinth. The one where the girl walks into the wall but it’s actually just a passage into another corridor? I was right again. I am on fire today! Well, not literally. I’m sure that would be excruciatingly painful. Unless you had some sort of nerve-default like Ants-in-my-eyes Johnson and couldn’t feel anything. What would that be like? It’d be cool because you couldn’t feel pain or anything like that, but then you also couldn’t be warm or cold or anything. Yeah, I don’t think that’s something I’d want. Because then I could have something abso-bally-utely horrible happen and I would die a very weird, and terrible, death because I couldn’t feel anything. But I can feel stuff. So that probably won’t happen. Like I can feel this wall. That I shouldn’t be touching. That I walked into. Or moon-walked into. What? I like to celebrate! I was right about the Labyrinth rip-off. Actually, I bet this whole maze thing is one big, giant rip-off. There is totally someone sitting at the end of this maze in a shitty little cardboard castle, holding my cat hostage and singing off-key renditions of David Bowie songs. That is exactly what’s waiting. And even more, I bet it’s that stupid, whiney, talkative, pizza-faced pizza delivery boy. This is so something he would do. Not that I actually know him. But still. I make it a point not to know human people. At least human people that exist in this reality. And especially not pizza delivery boys. Unless it’s Glenn Rhee. Because I’ll be honest, The Walking Dead is a great show. That doesn’t happen in our reality. Unfortunately neither zombies nor the Solanum virus exist here. Otherwise I would be having a lot more fun and there would be a lot less living human people. I have no qualms with dead people. For the most part. But I really can’t stand the majority of living, human people! Like that weird dude in the corner! God damn, he’s creepy. How long has he been there? He’s like a hobbit-sized version of Wormtongue. Now there’s one hell of a slimy dude. Like geez. Ever heard of shampoo? Well, I guess in that time period nobody’s heard of shampoo. They probably just had, like, water and flowers or something like that. And magic. Because that is the only way all of those elves would have hair that great. Even after a big ass battle. Otherwise it makes absolute zero sense. Yep. They have to be using magic. Unlike that creepy hobbit-Wormtongue. That guy has no magic keeping his hair clean. Or keeping him from stinking to high heaven. Just like everyone in The Hobbit. I mean, let’s face it. Dwarves have almost no sense of personal hygiene. At least not by today’s standards. They probably fit just in with everyone in their time. Other than the prissy, pansy elves. Holy shite! How long has this dude been here?! He looks like a personified version of what I imagined this big mazey-thing to look like. All damp and moldy and blegh. Oh please don’t come any closer. Or notice me. Please. I don’t like you. I haven’t met you, but I don’t like you. At all. You offend my nose. No. Stop looking over here. You see nothing. I am not here. Stop moving. Is this what happens when I touch the walls? Yeah, no. I am definitely not touching anymore walls. Maybe he’ll go away once I stop touching the wall. That didn’t work. Oh gods. Run away. Follow the Doctor’s orders and run. Just run. And don’t touch the walls. Or that door. Oh wait. Door. Go through the door. Always go through the door. Doors lead to adventures. Adventures are fun. And dangerous. And often lead to death. Which makes you late for dinner. Not recommended for people with a great love for food and cleanliness. Especially cleanliness. Fortunately-no matter how much I may love food-I don’t really care about being clean. In that respect I am very much like a dwarf. Also height-wise. I’m not even five foot. Like a dwarf. I am a human version of a Tolkien-style dwarf. And I very much think that I might enjoy this adventure. No matter how much physical effort may be included.