MrJuicy

No WBTB until I'm better.

Also, I'm going to write this one as if it's a story. Let's see how this'll work out. The parts I don't remember will be represented as an ellipsis.

Expect it to jump around. There's going to be a few plot holes.



I could only use one element at a time, it seemed, represented by my failure to fuse rock and water. The mud born from the experiment sank me down to the bottom of the pond, where it then proceeded to restrict my movement. The room I was in was just large enough for a small pond, and a path around it that seemed to lead into the next room, marked by a dark doorway. The pond itself was wholly artificial, and resided within a large cubic indentation in the middle of the room. Lily pads of varying size and shape populated the surface of the somber-colored water, and every quick glance at the pond emulated within me the sense of danger that mixing elements presented me with. ...and jump from platform to platform, as you would in a game...on our adventure.


Anthony and I, along with some faceless friends, thought it best to use the rocket scooter. ...We knew we wouldn't be able to get out so easily. I took inventory of our surroundings. Snow blanketed the entire area, and business was booming. Crowds devoured the product stands, and tourists walked about the place. To my left, there was a stand built out of the walls of the enormous, inside-out hill we were all inside. While business was indeed flourishing, many people seemed eager to play in the water at the shore to my right. I could see through the hole above the stand in front of me that the Olympics were going to start soon. I looked up at the snowy hill we flew down, and could barely make out the top. The wall behind me responded to its doppelganger with a half-pipe sort of shape. With a bit of thought, I arrived at the idea of momentum. I mounted the rocket sled we came on and put my plan into action. It seemed to be working for a little bit, but I found myself sliding back down the hill only inches from my goal. Another man grabbed my attention when he grew frustrated with a similar problem to mine, and decided to dig his way out. Just then the dog was in many, tiny, blocky pieces, and committed a foul act on the red carpet. The house we were in consisted of only a single room, and a door to the road from where we came. There was a red couch at the far end of the room, and complemented the position of the door. Miscellaneous pictures and paintings hugged the maroon walls, and where there were none, there were windows from which I could make out the Olympic ditch far down below.


We needed to execute a quiet escape if we were going to get away from the experiments they were performing on human subjects. The sheer size of the island would be enough to discourage most people, but we were up to the task. Dylan and I kept our cool for the most part, but James Franco was nervous about our plan. The prison complex we were getting out of turned out easier to navigate than initially expected. Dylan's acid spit kept spewing from his mouth, and served as a constant reminder of the position we were in. We were out of the bulk of the complex, and we enter the night air. There wasn't much room on the metal rafters that we had to continue on. From the rafters, I could see the ocean. The calmness of the dark waters juxtaposed the danger we all faced. ...As I pulled myself up on the platform, I froze. The surveillance monkeys fled their cages, and knew their targets. I had to keep still until they turned away, and when they did, I seized my chance and climbed up. Hitler below me several stories down was not a happy fellow. James Franco chose a very bad time to have a nervous breakdown.

Sorry the third dream isn't written as strongly as the other two. I got lazy.

Also, I might do this again, but a little differently. I felt limited the way I did it this time.