A day in the life. A day in the Dreamland. A land made of dreams, past and future. A land made for dreams present. A day in the life.
Today's the first day of a popular festival called "A Fia de la Gosda Weh", which means something I don't understand. But everyone's out living through [chemistry] and probably waiting for something to happen; meaning, sorry, they're making it happen, each one in their one way. It's abstract in that sense, but this world is in every sense.
So Yasuna's out, she's a bit bummed, she feels pretty sad, it's the late evening and watching the sun go down smoking a spliff way too stuffed, reminiscences of dumb stuff pop up in the emo part of her heart. For anyone, she's probably acting, but that's her way to externalize and actually be able to draw some distance from the day and herself. Still, isn't that spliff too much? As it's the third one lightened by her will in this sun cycle: but that's not her opinion.
A door opens and Duckman appears and adresses Yasuna:
-"as you can see... i am only what i am. nevertheless... (nevertheless......) ...!"
The duck, man, breaks the seal and changes into Cool Spot.
Cool Spot's a cool dude, like, in theory. Here he makes one big entrance and takes the whole page for himself, trying to look G, showing off skills like dunkin', surfin', pilotin' spaceships and taking out his big sword. He obviously thinks he's cool, like why would you call yourself Cool Spot, while not being a douche? He's probably a douche, how couldn't he, but oh the irony, who would call him Douche Spot? Yasuna's got education, I guess, or she just dislikes confrontation, or she's not the type to call out on others, or she's actually simply cooler than a red coin with sunglasses called Cool Spot. And she's gonna say she couldn't care less.
-"...I couldn't care less."
...And that being said, she puts words into action and goes fuck herself elsewhere to not care in peace. Yeah... you know it: peace is not on our program today. Enjoying the end of the sunset through a nice view on a nice hilltop, a giant Mecha-Yoshi appears from behind and aims at her by launching its rocket-punches. (Yasuna's got skills: ninja skills.) One of those is to switch places with an inanimate object in a surrounding area of fifty meters, and that's how she dodges Mecha-Yoshi's kinda loose surprise attack, being replaced with a dead log. The robot tried to make pictures of its target, in vain, 'cause her ninja skills are flawless and the log trick worked neatly.
-"hi! i'm jake the dog. i will reappear later in this story.
...if it's a story?
-hey! i'm mordecai. this is presumably my only appearance in this novel.
-anyway, hope you'll enjoy."
That's the sound of Mordecai's death.
Shot twice in the chest by none other than Metal Sonic.
-"FUCK!!! this won't end like this... better find the other one... I'M OUTTA HERE!!"
Words pronounced by King Boo fleeing the corpse of its now defunct host.
And Metal Sonic flies off, follows the trail of King Boo. The abrupt ending of Mordecai's physical life is simple collateral damage in one's attempt to stop Evil, to stop the ghost, unscrupulously leaving shells behind. But it's none of the two who actually pay the prices. It's none of the two who'll be remembered (?) in the form of a dick-shaped grave, reading 'R.I.P. MORDECAI'.
-"CJ... CJ... CJ!..
.....princess bubblegum? have you seen CJ?
-yes, mordecai. she is mourning your death, right now."
some things can tend to shine without any explained meaning...
-"wait...wh...what did you say?
-you're dead, dude.
Mordecai's ghost is left voiceless.
And then disappears.
-"oh, man... am I crazy...? I know this ain't no dream... poor CJ. At least she knows why she's sad... I'm still here wanting to die, watching ghosts disappear under the plain moon light..."
-"i'm sorry CJ... but the blood... it couldn't be scrambled..."
Those words would echo out infinitely in CJ's mind. It had to come out of nowhere. It took her time to gulp down the association, to let words form and print the image of her boyfriend's death deep in her perfect round eyes. But time... is also an abstract conception, and conjointly failing from top to bottom, CJ's perfect round pupils drop and leave open her brain's salty water valves.
Mordecai is dead. A world -which one?- shattered, an ocean rain curving a path through past and future memories, and the underpowering balance of fear necessary to the acceptance of events. Of facts. Of a fact. An amalgamated color ocean road pictured down a mirror throat, to help make suffering pass as minor threat...