Thank you so much, my wonderful reviewers! c: I know that my last chapter was a little short, but this one is almost twice as long, which means twice the fun! x3

RandomstalkerNOWWITHausername: Thank you for the feedback! c: Maybe it's just that I'm tired because it's early, but I'm not quite sure I follow what you're saying :/ Do you want me to summarize the chapters that include MLP at the end of the chapters? If so, that sounds easy enough, I think I can do that xD Thanks for showing me that video, by the way, I shall never listen to that song without thinking of Oncie ever again xP

Enjoy! :3


Something was wrong with the house.

A tall figure stood, forced to stoop in the too-short doorway, bristling at the uncomfortable feeling. No one could come into his house without his permission. No one. Not even his mama was allowed. Someone could break something, or, heaven forbid, break two somethings. The young man shuddered, just thinking about all the potential somethings he had saved by not letting anyone into his abode.

Sliding into the entryway, the Once-ler walked around the ground floor, pausing here and there as he examined everything. Nothing was out of place, thankfully, and no somethings were broken. Nothing even looked like it was out of place. Everything was exactly where it should be. Yet he knew that something wasn't right. He knew his house surprisingly well for a man too busy to sleep in it most nights, and he could sense that something was amiss.

Only one person could have messed up his house without him noticing it, but he wasn't here. He had left and was probably partying his ass off on the cloud tops right now. However, the Once-ler didn't put it past the fat jellybean to mess around with his belongings without even coming into in his house. That was just too typical of him.

The young man wandered aimlessly around the house, mulling things over. He was in no particular hurry, after all; it wasn't like he had any deadlines to meet. That thought caused him to stop short in his tracks. Blue eyes widened as he fully realized all that that all alone he was used to, albeit not quite as alone as this; being stranded and forced into seclusion was only so different from when he set out with his mule and his dream as his single possessions as he had done so many years ago; but not having time limits? Not having some important goal to work for? Now, that was weird. That hadn't happened since Thneed Inc. had been started up, possibly even before then. Even as a young boy, the Once-ler had always been striving for something. Ma's attention, a new guitar, selling his Thneeds-

For the first time in his life, he was purposeless. He had nothing to work for, no one to live for. Maybe the green suited man should have been scared, but all he felt was a strange sense of elation. Now he could focus on the things he really wanted without having to focus on getting his ma's attention at the same time.

Black hair ruffled flipped through the air as the Once-ler jerked his head up in an abrupt motion. Was he imagining it, or was there someone speaking to him? It was impossible, he was all alone... but no, there it was again: the harsh, croaky voice sounded throughout the entire house. "It's about time you stopped being the boy your mama wants you to be, and instead became the man that you know you are inside." It sounded like the wind whistling through the creaky shutters, the moaning of the floorboards as it shifted on its foundation, the stillness of a house not inhabited often enough given a song to sing.

The Once-ler nodded curtly, not really seeming to notice whether the disembodied sound was coming from his head or the outside world. It wasn't like it really mattered, he supposed. Even if he was going mad, and started to hear voices that weren't really there, it wasn't like people would be able to see. No one besides himself would witness the transformation of his beautiful face as it deteriorated slowly from impressiveness to insanity.

They say the mind is the first to go, but the body has to follow soon after-

The Once-ler shook his head. This was no time to be thinking about how ugly his face would undeniably look in a few years. He glanced around, realizing with some surprise that he had ended up in the attic of his house.

It wasn't really an attic, of course. Attics were so last year, his mama said. No, it was merely a cramped little room on the top floor of his house that held all of the extra crap that couldn't fit in the rest of his dwelling. He squinted, trying to see through the darkness. The windows were closed, and a single light bulb hung from a cord from the center of the room. A mountain of stuff lay between him and it, making it almost impossible to get to.

The Once-ler shuffled over to the window. He tried to open up the shutters, but they were fickle and refused to budge. His tall frame shook visibly as he wiggled them back and forth, trying to ease them open, but to no avail. In the end, his skinny fingers had to practically rip them off before any light could be cast into the dark room. It was not that much of a difference in lighting, what with the thick smoggy clouds covering up the sun, but it created enough of a difference in the room that he could make out shapes and colors, for the most part.

The young man coughed, his torso wracked by the furious bought. It was just the dust, he told himself, although in reality its source came from the low overhanging clouds. People didn't have as delicate throats as Swomee Swans did, so they did not lose their voices from all of the pollution, but inhaling too much of it gave one a terrible cough and horrible irritation. The people of Thneed Inc. brushed it off like it was nothing more than a common cold (Just a side effect of becoming famous!) but that didn't do anything to change how bad it was to their health.

Bright blue eyes blinked away tears formed from the mustiness as he turned around. Brows furrowing, he squinted over at the corner of the room. A soft glow of weak light fell across the objects strewn over there, illuminating them and giving them an almost angelic appearance. Picking his way through the clutter, the man leaped nimbly from bare floorboard to bare floorboard. He was reluctant to touch even one of the objects thrown so carelessly on the ground; doing so ricked triggering some unpleasant memory or other.

Hands outstretched, he ran one long, gloved finger down the striped wood of the closet that had undeniably not been put there by his mama. "So this is what the orange sausage had done to my house," he muttered unpleasantly. His voice was still hoarse from coughing, so it came out sounding akin to a growl of utter contempt. Which it was, in a way. Right now he felt nothing but hatred for that little peanut. "Guardian of the forest, my foot! Guardian of useless objects, more like."

He hadn't stolen anything of value, hadn't even disturbed any of the intricate scaled-down models he had lying around the house. No, instead he had scarred his beautiful house's feelings by marring it with this thing's ungainly presence.

How very typical of him.

The closet that stood before the Once-ler did not look out of place amid all of the crap that lay strewn about the room. It was vast, bulky and wide, rather unlike the slender man that stood before it. Resentful admiration peaked through the overcast look in the man's face as he brushed over the nicks and dents in the wood delicately. Annoying the little peanut may be, but was resourceful, he gave him credit for that.

Having little use for the trunks of the Truffula trees, Thneed Inc. had taken to stashing them in one huge pile on the other side of the valley. It would have been all too easy to steal away with a few pieces of wood and make a dresser like the one before him.

But, why, why a closet of all things? Sure, it made him want to cry because of how ugly it was, but it didn't make him feel particularly remorseful. It didn't make him regret his decisions. Why didn't he send something big, flashy, and screamed his failure in his face?

No, that wasn't the Lorax's style, he mused. What was it he had said to him, time and time again? "It doesn't work like that." The furry meatball was subtle and indiscreet. That he had an ulterior motive for sending it, the Once-ler had no doubt, but it was up to himself to figure out what he was supposed to do with this gift.

If one could call such a disgraceful abomination a gift.

"What's this?" muttered the skinny person. Shedding his green gloves, he bent low to the ground. Without his extra layer of green cloth on his hands, his fingers had much more mobility and precision. Delicately, he pried a slip of paper out from the corner of the closet. He smoothed out the folds, handling the scrap like it was an antique treasure. In a way, it was.

Reading the words carefully, the Once-ler formed the words with his mouth slowly, as if tasting each one on his lips.

"Beanpole, I have left this gift with you in the hopes that it might help you deal with the long lonely hours that undoubtedly lie ahead of you. L."

The print was scrawled, as if rushed, and the final initial was so squiggly that it's identity would be ambiguous at best, if he hadn't already known who the letter was from.

"And he still has the guts to call me Beanpole, after everything we've gone through. Cute." The Once-ler snorted. "And how the hell does he think that a flipping closet can make me less lonely? Does he expect me to start talking to it? Puh-lease."

A gust of wind blew through the open window, forcing the tall man to bend up double as the putrid scent from outside wafted up his nose, sending him into another coughing fit. The air cut through his thin shirt like paper, and he shivered uncontrollably until the wind had subsided. His coat had been torn up too much in his temper tantrum – er, his hat smashing routine, to be worn in its current state, so he had left it downstairs. He was in the coldest room of his house in only a thin blouse to protect him. He groaned, since it had never occurred to his ma to buy him more than one jacket. Rolling his eyes, the young man supposed he would have to do with whatever he could take until he patched up his old coat. He reached for the door handle, cautiously sliding the door open. While there was no way this thing could give him company, it had to have at least a coat or two inside. The door opened easily enough, revealing that the entire inside was stuffed to the brim with coats.

Smirking, the Once-ler sorted through the clothes, trying to find something that could fit his thin build. His grin soon dropped off of his face, however, as he realized that the only coat that could fit him was a dingy blue cloak made out of the world's scratchiest wool; everything else was much too big for him.

"Hardly what I would call fabulous," muttered the Once-ler, but he pulled the cloak out from the mass of cloth nonetheless.

"Wait, what's this?" the Once-ler paused, his makeshift coat hanging loosely in his hands. He could have sworn that, for the smallest of seconds, that there had been a flash of light from behind the mass of coats. One long hand reached out, pushing everything to the side, while the other slung the blue cloak over his back. There was more apparel inside than he had initially realized, but he had to whet his curiosity. An inventor like himself is always looking for new opportunities!

Who knew what was on the inside of a closet made from a forest guardian, anyways?

"Bingo," he breathed. On the back side of the closet, where there should have been wood, was instead a wall made of light. Blinking to adjust to the brightness, the tall man saw that he was looking at a busy street on a cloudy day. The sky was white, and the sun made no effort to appear through the clouds. For a moment, the Once-ler was sad that the sun wasn't shining even inside the closet, but then he scolded himself for his silliness. Suns don't shine inside closets. Get a grip, you stupid moron.

He was looking in on a busy street made of cobblestone. Every once in a while a horse drawn carriage would pass by, but for the most part, everyone was walking to wherever they wanted to go. Hold on, wait just a moment- The Once-ler paused, rubbing his eyes. Was he seeing correctly?

As impossible as it seemed, it was true. There were people living inside of the closet. Cloaked, booted people, hunching over as the marched from place to place, faces pointed downward as they tried to avoid the worst of the wind, but still people. Living, breathing people. Human beings. Hopefully decent ones that could carry on a decent conversation, unlike his ma, would could barely go five seconds without telling him what he had to do to get better at selling his Thneeds (it was for his own good, he was sure, but he still wished she could stop it to talk to him like a normal person for just five minutes.)

The young man sighed, thinking that maybe the furry peanut wasn't so bad after all. He did send him a closet with people inside of it, which, despite no matter how weird no matter how you look at it, was still a pleasant surprise.

Bright blue eyes closed momentarily as he whispered a soft, "Thank you, Mustache," up into the sky. Then, he stepped out of the closet and into the street, ready to make some company to fight off the long, lonely hours that the Lorax had predicted he would face.

Although at this rate, it didn't look like he would be very lonely at all.


...And then there were crossovers x3

The idea of a closet leading to another world is *stolen* from the magnificent CS Lewis and his series, The Chronicles of Narnia. The identity of the world is secret for now, but you'll figure out what it is by next chapter. ^^

The Lorax and all characters associated with it (C) Dr. Seuss and Illumination Entertainment, Universal Studios, etc.
Closets leading to other dimensions (C) CS Lewis
Story (C) me :3

Thanks for reading! c:

~Mikaceous