A deep metallic voice: “Ah yes, this must be the tube that LRPV used to destroy formerly Zen City and set up his Nowtown to rule NWES Island. Until it too was destroyed by a spawned fireball emitted from the Zen City detonation. The rule lasted about 10 seconds, then. Wait.” He checked his script. He saw the word “improvise” in bold italics after “Wait.” “Uhm. I don’t think that’s right, Wayne.” Who’s Wayne? I look off in the distance.
Sandy knew it had to happen. As he had changed others to make them appear as he wished, so too must he now pay the price. Karma, a word not to be thrown lightly around. He lay in his bed, dreaming he was another. Another Sandy. Seems like Spongebub images are everywhere these days, ba ha ha ha ha.
“Dig that chick at the bar, King Orange.”
“Sandy?” replied King Orange, now staring at her instead of clown and fellow burger baron Renaldo O’Donnell. “Sandy Chic?” he completed.
Renaldo O’Donnell glanced over his shoulder again, taking her in better. “I’d like to get her out of that little purple skirt,” he said in a male bastard way. “Like to get some of that tail.”
Sandy overheard with her sharp squirrel(-like) ears. She walked over and complied. “*Here* (*pop*), you can have them (*slam*). The things were getting stuck in the bar anyway behind me; keeping me from standing properly.”
She walked out of the Bigfoot Bar as they called it, also slamming the door.
Sandy Beech fully awakes with this, remembering everything. The stand, the poster. “Wendy,” he says aloud. “I forgot about Wendy!” He rushes downstairs to see if anything he was dreaming about remained.
Nothing but a cold, naked air blowing through an open door with a suddenly broke off handle. The wind slammed it shut again. Who would do this?
Sunklands 