Elizabeth nervously chewed on the red tips of her hair. She found herself in a Japanese version of Mr. Bagel's Donut Shop, nearly identical to it. The flooring was a tolerable brown, and large windows now gave view to the location of the old store. However, the space was filled with renegade deserts, floating and flying at their leisure. The ceiling appeared in twitching shades of black; it left her with an uneasiness, soon to be forgotten, when she noticed a water-damaged, and closed Science textbook in the left corner of the establishment, followed with a sound.
A bell rang as a guy in his twenties, older than Elizabeth, came through the entry-way. He had conditioned brown hair, a calm face, and a comfortable-looking, dark grey longcoat which was cutting off a bit past the knees. He was carrying a walking stick over his shoulder, and he flipped it around into an umbrella-pickaxe holder next to his right leg.
"Hey sis, I came in here to buy some food." He said mid-walk to the counter, swatting a floating cinnamon donut-hole in his way.
"Yes, its me, Glorge." He scratched his head at the menu. "Its all in Cheananese.."
"Then she's gone? The silver birtch that turned you into a.."
"Yeah. Maybe someone broke the right record." He pointed to food. "I'll have two of those and a multi-glazed, chocolate-filled, long-john necklace."
"Glorge, to tell you the truth, I don't think I work here." Elizabeth pulled some of her own hair out of her mouth and let the strands drop to her shoulders.
"Its late but, I think I'll have a coffee too." Glorge's stomach replied.
Elizabeth grabbed his ordered donuts without putting on gloves, "I don't remember filling out an application."
Glorge hesitated.. "Ya know what sis? Neither do I."
Elizabeth gave him a puzzled look.
Glorge put on his pastry bling. Concern formed on his face and he stared at the countertop, "Ya know, I feel something in my gut, like something impending is going to happen.."
"Stop ignoring the nightmares!" Some Japanese Rock song on the radio ended.
Elizabeth poured his coffee and put in creamer and sugar. She went to hand the cup to him when something black dive-bombed into the cup from the ceiling. Coffee splashed everywhere. Elizabeth jumped and retracted her hand as the cup rolled to the floor. She wiped her hand on the side of her clothing instinctively. The black thing flew back up, like a bat without a head.. up into the twitching ceiling.
"I got to go somewhere.. I gotta go." Glorge took a bite of one of the donuts on the counter.
"Glorge wait." Elizabeth raised her hand, her tone of voice lifting out of fear. But she failed to get the attention of her brother Glorge, whom was adamant about leaving for some unknown reason. He grabbed his cane and put it over his shoulder, a fixation of worry across his face, his coffee and donuts left on the counter-- save a pasty necklace marking his rise from the streets.
The exterior of the donut shop appeared relatively calm under the colored sky, though the windows were blind with the rest of the building. The shop was mostly covered in green shapes and grey lines on a black canvas which somehow left Elizabeth's brother uneasy. Glorge took a brisk pace down the side of the road, leaving view of a storefront that almost appeared tame..
* * *
It wasn't much longer when the doors of the donut shop opened, with the store left unilluminated. The headless ceiling fragments flew around an expressionless young woman in the doorway and swarmed the night air. Both doors, upon hitting the outer wall of the donut shop, busted off of their hinges and began moving across the building in animated half-circle rotations.
The woman in the doorway had on a trenchcoat-dress covered in two-dimensional illusions like mirrors or camera feeds with shifting localities, fleeting images never to achieve any definition beyond the darkest greys. Her hair was up in similar anti-hues, with a wide-eyed snapping turtle hanging off the back of it. Some sort of tape in black and green strands, formed X's over her eyes. She was.. She.
Three and a half helicopters covered in splatters of grim color circled around the pastry company. The flying machines were full of books, navigating the heavens with no evidence of pilots. Occasionally books would fall out and reign downwards. The 'copters shone spotlights in reds and violets coming close to She, but due to some error of judgment or momentum, these spotlights failed to stay on target of the moving black figure.
From out of anti-corners, cats with strike signs and off-color fur came through the orange and yellow luminescence of the street to follow She. Some felines stood on two feet, one with crutches, while all of them had cactus hats or plant-occupied flower pots atop their noggins. Maybe they were following the package of Goopy Goopy Fried Gumdrops in her pocket, made overseas in oft abusive jobs that were the best the confinements had to offer.
Sitting poorly in indian-style some ways away, a man with long, dirty hair and eyeglasses went through strange spasms. “She” traversed right, across the odd glow of the street, away from the jerky fellow and the far-off All-Mart.
"The ethereal of greens. Stringy celery and the Peanut Butter Savior.." The dirty haired man murmured with bloodshot eyes, his voice drowned out by an endless chorus of large bells chiming in unison from shifty buildings, which had started noising since She had appeared.
A creature whose shape was crossed between a whale and dolphin came up out of the roads and sidewalks in a dozen or so. Course cement served as skin where skin was present, while their eyes and organs were made of dirt. They went a few feet into the air before burrowing back down to breathe the breathless air. One of the 'dhalefins' flew up over She and propelled some dirt clods in her direction which she paid no heed to, while the colorful felines behind dropped protest signs, and made temporarily retreats.
* * *
Geoffery and Cuithbeart were lounging on springy chairs, sipping purple lemonades in the second story of a classily furnished house. The Victorian house was in mid-air and about to crash into the ground. Luckily, the structure's giant springs kept its leap-frog activity from being harmful, albeit jarring. They piloted it using a retro video-game controller that was plugged into the floor.
Geoffery had a white and brown bulldog mask over his face. Fake furs and plastic doodads made his Elizabethan appearance more alien; while he had received a tie around his left arm and another around his right-- for bad and good luck, from esteemed local salesmen. Suddenly well-educated in the field of technical miracles, he had changed his name permanently or temporarily to Repairgoddog!
"Hopefully we don't run into a jumping police station!" Cuithbeart laughed.
The Scotsman's expression went stern, "Because I think there's something in this lemonade."
"They can't arrest us for drunk gaming." Repairgoddog replied. He looked left to the mini-mall parking lot that was still in unstable segments; then he looked forward to the All-Mart lot which the moving house had just landed on.
Ahead lied the shifting images of Jeffery and Ratty losing consciousness next to a pile of a pink hats that someone had set on fire (there was a purple one in there somewhere); the pile was burning white. While an excited Swedish man with blinding, metallic footwear attempted to converse with the crowd of two.
"If you jump once more, you'll hit them!" Cuithbeart jarred.
Repairgoddog pressed the 'SELECT' button and the house fell, and the house stopped.