The morning light gently dappled across the baby blue satin bedsheets as a slight breeze shook the blinds. It was Sunday morning and there were no alarms to be heard, no obligations to draw Barry or Vanessa out of bed. Vanessa's eyes cracked first and she rolled over to admire the body of her tiny lover, which made the slightest indent against the satin pillowcase. Rather than wake him, she quietly crept out of bed and tiptoed to the kitchen to make him his favorite breakfast: a pollen omelette.
Barry awoke to the sound of spatula clinking against hot pan from the next room and smiled. How did he get so lucky? He buzzed out of bed and flew to the wardrobe to put on his tiny bathrobe. When he opened the heavy mahogany doors with the strength of a creature whose strength is still not understood by science, he noticed something unusual: a dark, wavering portal gaping against the wardrobe's back wall. He peered quizzically into the black hole before him, reaching out a tiny leg to feel the void. A sudden gust of wind blew him into the hole, and he screamed, but no one could hear it. He fell for what felt like eternity until he drifted into a peaceful sleep.
In another world, the morning light dappled through hanging sheets of moss covering the open window of a shack deep in the swamp. Shrek awoke before his sleeping bride, groggy but ready to embark on his daily morning run. He slid out of bed and slipped on his toe running shoes, you know which ones I mean? The ones where your toes separate like gloves? He had to get a pair custom made by the local shoemaker because his toes are so big.
After mile ten, Shrek had worked up a nice sweat and momentum. With each squish of swamp mud through his be-shoed toes and every pulse of pain through his giant, green legs, he felt proud of his progress as a runner and confident that at next week's swamp half marathon he would blow his previous time out of the swamp water. As he rounded the corner of a giant tree, he saw a sight like none he had ever seen before: a ray of sunshine beat directly down onto a mossy rock, and in its divine glow lied a very handsome, vaguely familiar bee, unconscious. In a moment of panic, he diverted from his regular route and made a beeline for the rock to assess the scene. As he approached, he feared to touch the bee, because his giant fingers would surely squish him. He grabbed a leaf from the ground, and just as he prepared to brush the tiny body onto the leaf to take it to the hospital, the insect gasped and shuddered awake.
"Wh-where am I?" Barry whispered, disoriented.
Shrek's giant green heart skipped a beat as their eyes locked.
"You're in my swamp," he said breathlessly in his signature thick Scottish accent that Dreamworks paid Mike Myers extra for.
Barry felt it too. His heartbeat raced even faster than usual for his tiny bee heart. But he had another reason to be nervous: he needed to get home.
"How did I get here? Through the portal?" Barry asked.
"Ah, yes," Shrek responded. "This happens quite often, actually. Portals open up in different Dreamworks universes and lure characters from one to another. You must be Barry."
"You know me?" Barry said, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I don't-"
Shrek raised an eyebrow. "And you don't know me?"
Barry blushed and looked away. "I don't watch a lot of movies. I'm very small and have a terrible attention span."
"I'm Shrek," said Shrek.
"Shrek," Barry rolled the name around in his mouth. He liked the way it felt on his tongue. He thought briefly of Vanessa, and then remembered what he needed to do. "Can you help me get home?"
Shrek's face fell. He hated the thought of letting Barry go so soon. Barry noted the change in Shrek's body language and amended his previous statement.
"I-I mean, I would love to see the swamp first. Before I go." They both smiled shyly.
"Come with me. I'll show you my swamp." Shrek outstretched his hand and Barry timidly took it.
Tears streamed down Fiona's face as she watched the scene from behind a nearby tree. It had taken Shrek so long to regain her trust after his affair with the hippo from Madagascar. That time, she vowed that it would never happen again. She clenched her teeth and balled up her fist like that Arthur meme. She knew what she had to do.
TO BE CONTINUED