In the twilight hours of slumber, when the veil is thin, the dreams are grand. Our hero, clad in pajamas of questionable taste, found themselves in an expansive land where reality adhered to the logic of children's cartoons.
But wait! The sky above was a deep shade of fuchsia, and clouds floated by in the shape of tacos. It was here, in this absurd world, that our protagonist decided to chase a squirrel wearing a tiny top hat—an endeavor fueled perhaps by too much cheese before bed.
As they ran, the ground below transformed into a spiral staircase leading upwards into nothingness—a place where lost socks and untamed remote controls congregate, forming alliances and rivalries unbeknownst to the waking populace.