Milo takes a deep breath, attempting to center himself as the chaos of the Dream World continues to spiral around him. Okay, focus, Milo. First official mission. Find the hidden door. That's it. Shouldn't be too hard, right?
[i.d.e.a.l.]'s cryptic voice cuts through his thoughts. "Milo, your task is simple. Find the hidden door within the apple tree. You'll know it when you see it."
Milo stares blankly at the distant forest where an apple tree stands, its branches swaying in the breeze. He squints in confusion. An apple tree? Seems easy enough. At least it's not a sentient potato... yet.
He marches forward, eager to get this over with. But as he nears the tree, something... strange happens. The apple tree begins to twitch, its bark rippling like a sheet in the wind. Before Milo can even step closer, the tree transforms—into a giant rubber chicken.
Milo halts in his tracks. What the hell?!
The rubber chicken flaps its "wings" (which are actually just two giant slabs of rubber) and lets out an obnoxious cluck.
"I'm not your typical apple tree, pal!" the chicken squawks, as if deeply offended. "Who do you think you are, walking up to me like you're some kind of professional tree whisperer?"
Milo blinks, wondering if he's losing his mind, then turns to leave. But as soon as he steps away, the tree morphs again—this time into a dancing taco wearing a sombrero and shaking its fillings to an imaginary tune.
Milo rubs his temples in frustration. Of course. Because why wouldn't a tree turn into a dancing taco?
He glares at the taco, which winks at him. "Wanna join the fiesta, amigo?" it asks, jiggling its taco shell.
Milo's patience is wearing thin. "I'm on a mission, alright? I need to find a door. Now."
The taco scoffs. "Well, if you want to find that door, you'll have to go through me!" It then starts spinning in an exaggerated salsa move, its fillings spilling out in a dramatic fashion.
Milo can feel his sanity slipping. "Great. A salsa-dancing taco. Just what I needed."
His frustration peaks when the taco transforms once again, this time into a floating fridge with a pair of sunglasses and an air of supreme arrogance.
"I am the gatekeeper to all secrets!" the fridge announces loudly, a door on its side creaking open to reveal a chilly interior. "But before you enter, we must perform the Secret Handshake. Only then may you pass!"
Milo stares blankly at the fridge. "A... a handshake? Are you kidding me?"
The fridge pauses for dramatic effect, its ice cubes clinking. "Not just any handshake," it clarifies. "A special handshake. If you can't figure it out, I'm afraid you'll be trapped in here forever."
With his last nerve hanging by a thread, Milo lifts a nearby rock and, without hesitation, hurls it directly at the fridge. The rock strikes the fridge with a dull thud, causing the fridge to flicker and let out a high-pitched whine.
The fridge freezes in place. "Well, then," it mutters, "I guess that works."
The tree transforms back into its original apple tree form with a soft, sighing sound. Milo approaches it cautiously, ignoring the fridge's indignation.
"Finally..." he mutters, reaching out toward the tree's trunk.
As Milo steps forward, he feels a strange pull—a distortion in the air that's almost magnetic. He takes a step back, then finds himself transported somewhere else entirely. Before he can process what's happening, he blinks in confusion as he stands in front of a massive, outdated television set, glowing bright against the dense, surreal forest.
The TV flickers to life with a burst of static, followed by a cheesy, jarring theme song that feels way too loud for this world's atmosphere.
"Welcome, welcome to Learning with Dreamy! Your guide to surviving the weirdness of the Dream World!"
The voice booms through the clearing, as a series of utterly absurd characters appear on screen. A giant walrus in a tutu waddles across a makeshift stage, while a singing rabbit hops around, belting out off-key notes. Meanwhile, a very angry carrot stands in the corner, its little leafy hair twitching in frustration.
Milo stares at the screen, unable to comprehend what's going on. Is this some kind of children's show? Why is it broadcasting to me?
The rabbit suddenly turns and spots Milo, its eyes widening in delight. "Oh-ho-ho, a new audience member! Join us, friend, and learn about the ways of the Dream World!"
The walrus, in an exaggerated pirouette, chimes in: "Yes, yes, join us in our fantastical escapades! You might even win a prize!"
Milo glares at the screen. "I just want to get out of here..."
The carrot storms up to the camera, its face a mixture of rage and condescension. "No one leaves without participating, you fool! Now, make the chicken dance!"
Out of nowhere, a rubber chicken is thrust into Milo's hands, a nametag reading "Official Dream World Explorer" dangling from it. It squeaks loudly, its eyes bulging comically.
"I really don't want to do this," Milo mutters, looking at the chicken with disdain.
The carrot, now towering over the TV screen, hisses: "Make it dance, or we'll have to cancel you!"
Milo, defeated, lets out a sigh and reluctantly begins to shake the rubber chicken. To his horror, the chicken starts dancing—well, wobbling—in a bizarre and unintentionally hilarious manner, its legs flailing uncontrollably.
The characters on the screen burst into applause. The walrus twirls even faster in his tutu. "Bravo! Bravo! Such performance!"
Milo, humiliated and exasperated, can't even bring himself to respond. His hands cramp from shaking the chicken, and he can feel his patience evaporating like steam from the boiling kettle.
Finally, the carrot nods in approval. "You've completed your task, human. But don't think it's over. There's more fun where that came from!"
The TV screen flickers, then goes dark. The Dream World is far from predictable, and even the simplest task has turned into a bizarre, embarrassing ordeal.
Milo drops the rubber chicken, his hands shaking. The surreal, nightmarish show is over, but the strangeness hasn't abated in the slightest.
[i.d.e.a.l.]: "Nice work, Milo. Now, the apple tree. Remember to search for the door."
Milo stares at the now-quiet, harmless-looking apple tree. "I'm going to lose it, I swear."
[i.d.e.a.l.]: "Just remember—things are about to get a lot weirder. You're in someone's mind, and this world reflects their chaos."
Milo runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I've figured that much out, thanks. You think maybe you could give me something that isn't a mad circus of insanity next time?"
[i.d.e.a.l.]: "We'll see, Milo. We'll see."
With a weary sigh, Milo steps toward the tree again. As he gets closer, he sees something glinting within the apple tree's hollow trunk. Could it be the door?
He stretches his hand toward the glinting light, bracing himself for whatever the Dream World throws at him next.