Cling! Cling! Cling! An obnoxiously loud bell rang out, echoing through the strange pocket dimension where Eryk now found himself—a shiny, golden game show set lit up with flashing neon lights and the words “Welcome to TOASTED!” spelled out in massive letters. He was still a helpless packet of peanut butter, stuffed into the back pocket of a plush rabbit-conductor-choo-choo-train-turned-game-show-host.

The audience, composed of various floating bread slices—rye, wheat, unbleached white, and even bagels—cheered wildly. The choo-choo train conductor spun around, gears whirring, and bellowed, “It’s DINNER TIME, folks! Let’s find out which bread our contestant will be spread on today!” A giant wheel labeled with the different bread types spun, ticking dramatically as it slowed.

Eryk, feeling his peanut-buttery essence clench in horror, watched as the wheel landed on Toasted Cinnamon Raisin Bagel. The crowd of bread slices erupted in enthusiastic cheers. “Oh, come on,” Eryk thought, trying to process the absolute absurdity of the situation. “I’m not even going to be spread on regular bread?!”

Just as he was lamenting his fate, a crack of energy split the air, and a perfect, peanut-butter-coated clone of himself was launched out of the packet—except this Eryk was a monkey. A monkey holding a massive, gleaming banana like a warrior’s sword. The monkey Eryk bared its teeth in a wicked grin, leaping onto the toasted bagel, which had conveniently sprouted legs and begun stomping around the arena.

“ARE YOU READY TO FIGHT FOR YOUR SPREADING RIGHTS?” the choo-choo train conductor bellowed, steam shooting from its smokestack. The monkey clone roared, brandishing the banana like a battle staff, and lunged at Eryk, who still had no real limbs to defend himself.

Eryk panicked. “I don’t have any weapons! I’m just peanut butter!” But before he could muster any sort of defense, the monkey swung the banana with frightening precision, sending Eryk flying across the arena and splattering against the side of a giant, gaudy toaster.

The fight continued, a chaotic blur of banana strikes, toast maneuvers, and game-show chaos. Eryk’s peanut-buttery form somehow managed to ooze around, dodging attacks and doing his best to mount a counter-offensive. Just as the monkey Eryk was about to deliver the final blow and the bagel was getting ready to chomp down, a strange sensation enveloped Eryk.

He began to float, the scene fading away as the absurd arena dissolved into blinding white. The game show vanished, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence.

Eryk blinked, and suddenly, he was himself again—human, whole, but feeling utterly ragged and worn. He was lying on a cold, metal bench, surrounded by a grimy, industrial-looking room with rusted walls and flickering fluorescent lights. His clothes were torn, and his hands trembled. “What just happened?” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

He looked around in bewilderment and saw a group of space military personnel detaining a robotic android. The android, sleek and humanoid, was being handcuffed with thick magnetic cuffs as one of the officers read its android rights. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you beep or whirr can and will be used against you in a court of space law…”

Eryk’s head spun, and his eyes widened as he realized he was in some sort of grimy space station. Large windows lined the walls, offering a breathtaking view of a swirling galaxy beyond. “What… where am I?” he mumbled, but before he could process anything, a surge of panic coursed through him, and he momentarily thought his hands had turned into fins again. “Oh no, not the fish thing!” he muttered.

But it was only leftover trauma from whatever the android had done to his brain. A stern-looking medical officer, a woman with silver hair pulled into a tight bun, marched up to him and examined him critically. “You look like you’re about to pass out,” she said, her voice brusque.

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Eryk tried to explain, but his words came out in a slurred jumble. The medical officer sighed, pulled out a small spray canister, and jammed it up his nose. “Breathe deep, kid,” she commanded, and slapped him on the back, forcing him to inhale.

Eryk coughed and sputtered, and suddenly, he started vomiting. Except it wasn’t just any kind of vomit—it was peanut butter and chunks of banana. And then, to his utter horror, a small android monkey tumbled out of his mouth, covered in peanut butter and looking quite cross.

The medical officer didn’t even flinch. “Well, that’s new,” she muttered, wiping off her gloves. Eryk was trembling, but the chaos of whatever had happened seemed to be fading, and his mind was slowly clearing. He was no longer trapped in that bizarre hallucination, but it had felt so real.

He glanced around, taking in the grime and the piles of trash scattered throughout the space station. The military personnel exchanged weary looks, one of them muttering, “Another clock-and-dagger type, huh? Great. Just what we needed.”

Eryk had no idea what “clock-and-dagger” even meant, but he was starting to understand that wherever he was, this place was harsh and full of secrets. He sat up, wincing at the aches in his body, and tried to make sense of the universe he was now a part of—a universe full of space wizards, android monkeys, game shows about toast, and cosmic adventures that made gravity seem like the least of his concerns.

“What… is even real anymore?” he whispered, feeling the weight of the universe pressing down on him. But deep in his gut, he knew one thing for sure: his journey through this cosmic chaos was far from over.

Eryk stumbled through the bustling chaos of the spaceport, his senses overwhelmed by the sheer madness of this alien place. The ground wasn’t solid like any normal floor but was instead composed of rippling, floating streams of water that seemed to roll gently underfoot, defying gravity. Hovering stalls sold glowing snacks, android merchants hawked their wares in mechanical voices, and, most bizarre of all, floating android cats meandered around, occasionally burping loudly before meowing.

One such cat hovered right up to Eryk, burped in his face with a metallic “BrrrRP!” and then tilted its head. “Meow. What’s your problem, buddy?” it asked, its synthetic voice oddly judgmental.

Eryk’s brain struggled to process this new encounter. “What’s my—” he began, but the words came out as a sudden, loud “CHOO CHOO!” He slapped his hands over his mouth, mortified, and then sneezed, sending a burst of shredded lettuce shooting out of his nose and splattering onto the poor android cat. The cat hissed, zipping away in a huff.

The stern-looking medical officer from earlier, who was now walking alongside Eryk, raised an eyebrow. “You keep doing weird stuff like that, and I’m gonna have to check your booty core.”

Eryk’s eyes widened. “My what?! Wait—booty core? That sounds… very wrong.”

The officer rolled her eyes and sighed, her exasperation palpable. “Booty core, you pervert! As in pirate booty. Treasure! You know, the magical essence locked inside you.” She waved a hand dismissively. “What happened was… blah blah, magic infused into you… blah blah, you’re not from this world, blah blah…” Her voice trailed off as she reached into a pouch and pulled out a scanner.

Eryk’s head spun. “Wait, magic creatures… infused into me? So that’s why I’ve been sneezing lettuce and talking like a train?”

The medical officer snorted, giving him a look that was equal parts disbelief and amusement. “Yep. You ate some serious magical nonsense, kid. Now hold still while I figure out what clock-and-dagger sect you belong to.”

She raised the scanner, which beeped and flashed as it analyzed Eryk’s magical signature. The device began to hum, its lights growing brighter, and suddenly a string of words appeared on the screen. The medical officer’s face contorted in shock, her eyes widening as she read the title Eryk had apparently earned in this absurd universe.

Her mouth opened and closed, as if she were trying to speak but couldn’t get the words out. “He’s… he’s… he’s…” She stumbled, her face turning pale. “You’re a… oh, stars help me…” And with that, she clapped a hand over her mouth and gagged a little, her revulsion so strong that she promptly passed out, collapsing onto the rolling water-like ground.

Eryk’s confusion only deepened as onlookers around them gasped and whispered. The suspense in the air was palpable, and Eryk felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. “What did it say?” he mumbled, looking around at the stunned faces. “What’s my title?”

Before he could get an answer, a small medical drone zipped over, its thrusters whirring angrily. The drone beeped furiously at Eryk, then carefully picked up the unconscious officer and cradled her in a set of robotic arms. As it floated away, it turned back to Eryk, a tiny digital screen displaying an angry face emoji.

The drone beeped once more and handed him a crumpled piece of paper. Eryk took it hesitantly and unfolded it, his hands trembling. The message on the paper was simple, yet maddeningly cryptic.

“Cheeseburger?” it read.

Eryk groaned, running a hand through his hair. “What is it with cheeseburgers in this universe?” he asked aloud, feeling more bewildered by the second.

The android cat from earlier meowed from a distance. “Hey, keep it down, buddy! Some of us are trying to burp in peace!”

Eryk could feel his sanity slipping. “This place is going to drive me mad,” he muttered. But somewhere deep inside, he knew that the mystery of his title—and the strange significance of cheeseburgers—was something he’d have to figure out soon. Because in a universe this insane, answers were probably even crazier than the questions.