Hi! You don’t know me, but we’ve met before. Countless times, actually. I call myself Omni, but in a few minutes my name will be Amanda, a cute little blonde from down the hall.
Oh, don’t bother calling campus security. Your phone has turned into a banana. No, it’s real! Eat it. See? Pretty good, right?
I’m in your room to tell you what’s about to happen. I just love to watch your expression while I tell you about the true nature of reality. It just never gets old! Sit down. Yes, there on your bed, if you please. There you go.
Bobby sat idly at his keyboard. It was hour six of a last minute sprint to complete his term paper on “The Making of the Atomic Bomb.” To tell the truth, it had been pretty easy since he had copied much of it nearly verbatim from the book of the same name, but he knew his history teacher was pretty lazy and he was unlikely to get caught. Now all he had to do was construct a believable bibliography.
The gentlest hint of sunlight stokes forth a blinding show of glimmering crystals. The room fills with multicoloured sparkle, like inside of a chandelier of the stars themselves. Your brain has decided to maintain its stance on the status quo of your pedestrian lifestyle, leaving you again momentarily confused to your lavish surroundings. That is, until you again remember.