Uuom blearily opened his eyes. White linoleum stared him back in the face. A guy in a hard hat stared back as well, blocking most of the appealing view of the linoleum. Uuom tried to figure out who this man was.

"Builderman?" he croaked finally, having had the faintest inkling of who the guy was.

"Uuom," Builderman said sharply, "keep awake. You need to listen." Uuom nodded, and then got distracted by a piece of dust that landed on his nose and then flew off to parts unknown.

Builderman placed one hand on Uuom's shoulder, and there was a faint blue glow. Slowly the eyes of the waking man began to clear and to focus.

"Uuom," Builderman repeated. Uuom sat to attention. Builderman looked at him quizically, then continued with his words. "That thing that attacked you yesterday was a Blocklander, an extraterrestrial, from the nearby planet of Blockland. I'm very interested in this planet of Blockland, and its inhabitants. Tell me, do you like rockets?"

"I have, on occasion, used one," Uuom said.

"Not those types of rockets," Builderman said, seriously. "The type that fly people up to nearby celestial bodies. You know, a space capsule?"

"Oh..." Uuom thought of whether he like space capsules, and decided against it.

"No," Builderman smiled, "I didn't think you would. However, I'm offering something if you do want to fly up in a space capsule, land on the planet of Blockland, and launch a megawar on its surface." Uuom's head perked up.

"What is it?"

"Five billion robux," Builderman intoned climactically. Uuom's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"Five billion?!" he asked incredulously.

"Five billion," Builderman repeated. "I could, of course, split it between the three of you."

"Yeah, sure, sure," Uuom snapped. "Now where's the bloody space capsule? I have a date with history."

) oooooooooooooooo (

The space capsule sat just outside the infirmary. It was painted a flashy blue and green for the effect of it, and was roughly egg-shaped. Around it squabbled technicians, mechanics, launch controllers, and even a few politicians in red sub-executive robes.

Uuom walked up to a waiting area. Choppa and Hydrow stood sheepishly inside it, shuffling their feet. Uuom greeted them.

"Long time, no see," he shouted so all could hear. "How's the bruise, big guy?"

"Good," Hydrow muttered. "Tone it the Bazsucki down, will you?"

"OF COURSE!," Uuom positively screamed, and sat down on a bench, whistling and tapping one foot on the ground in rhythm.

A hush fell over the space pod. Apparently this marked the end of the time Builderman was not there, and the beginning of the time when he was. Builderman lifted his hands.

"I know, this is a bit impromptu, but Uuom, I'm counting on you to make a neat takeover. All you here, you don't know about Blockland. Well, neither do we, so stop asking questions about it until the three heroes arrive back to this fair city and bring news. However, the natives are hostile, so... wish them luck." The crowd bowed their heads. Some of the Wanwoods at the back sank to their knees.

"You may light the engines," Builderman said. A technician ambled over and proferred a torch to the engine ports, which promptly started to hum.

Uuom, Choppa, and Hydrow sat down in the capsule's one-room cabin, and watched the door shut behind them. Then with a rush of turbulence and a pressure on all their heads, the capsule rocketed up into the sky and from there to the inky black of space.

) ooooooooooooooooo (

The undeveloped land sat ready to be built upon. Two Blocklanders, with the aprons that marked them as Bricksmiths over their torsos, placed a black brick upon the ground, then another.

The first bricksmith looked at the second bricksmith, and noticed the red brick he was bringing to rest on the ground.

"New color," he observed.

"Yes," the other said, and turned to place the brick down.

"We're not supposed to have new colors," the first said. "It's against Badspot's Third Decree. 'All colors must be uniform, or the world goes into conflict.'"

"What world," asked the second bricksmith.

"This one," answered the first bricksmith. "The one we are standing on."

"Could it not be said that the world is a figment of our imaginations," replied the second bricksmith.

"It could not," the first bricksmith said. "Badspot's Second Decree states, 'The life of this world shall come from the crops born on it'. If this world was imaginary, how do you explain food and drink?"

"Mayhaps another figment," the second bricksmith noted.

A loud, roaring scream came at their ears from the sky, and seconds later a heavenly projectile smashed its way through the ground a mile away, leaving a column of dust that could be seen from afar.

"Was that imaginary," asked the first bricksmith.

"I do not know," the second bricksmith replied. "Let us partake of this new knowledge." They ambled off towards the crash site.