Leif pushed his way valiantly through the thick bushes – wait…thick bushes? Wasn't it tall white trees a second ago? Leif thought in bemusement. As if it's heard his thoughts, the forest suddenly morphed back into the strange golden-leaved place it had been before with what Leif could've sworn was an embarrassed cough coming from a particularly dense patch of trees. Eyes narrowing in suspicion he headed towards to grove. That Narrator watched him in growing panic from her hiding place among the bushes and, in desperation not to get caught just as she'd begin to have fun, unleashed upon the unsuspecting character the first thing that came into her tiny mind.

With a noise like twenty jet planes taking off at once thirteen thousand golden chickens zoomed out of the wood, the lead chicken plucking Leif up in it's gargantuan beak as it passed.

"Origami paper is to cheese what mice are to rabbits!!" he cried desperately as he was flung up in the air, only to land snugly on the purple and red polka-dotted back of the chicken…It was only five minutes later, when he stopped going into Cardiac Arrest that Leif realised the strange spotty thing was not, in fact, the chickens back. That's right; all thirteen thousand chickens were dressed in purple and red polka-dot tutus. Shrugging Leif wondered aloud, "Laughing equals pizza?" and much to his surprise the chicken upon whose back he was sitting squawked in reply,

"The queen of the bumblebees is having a banquet, and we're all invited!" Leif gaped at this statement, getting a strange feeling of deja-vu as he remembered to events of the previous chapter…

With a sudden screech of claws scrabbling on polished marble and many indignant squawks the chickens suddenly skidded to a halt in front of a tacky Disney-themed castle which had obviously been designed by someone on crack who had an unhealthy obsession with pink. Leif found himself spread-eagled on the cold floor, having been thrown there unceremoniously during the poultry pile-up. Standing up and dusting himself down he wandered past the sleeping guards into the art-deco style entrance hall. He stared in awe at the thousands of people who were milling about in the eight by ten metre room and wondered at the fact that so many people could fit in such a small space and still have room to spare.

A commotion over on the other side of the hall drew his attention and he absentmindedly wandered over to watch the conflict in growing fascination. A small boy, maybe thirteen or fourteen, with pale skin, red eyes and weird black hair that looked like a ducks behind seemed to be trying (and failing) to threaten an impassive young man slightly older than Leif with the same white skin and freaky red eyes – though thankfully not the same hair – and a really odd dress sense. Leif rolled his eyes, honestly, he thought disparagingly, with a figure like his he should be wearing A-line things, not that dreadful baggy black dress he has on…and the pattern is simply terrible! So last season!

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Hmm…so Leif's a fashionista now, eh? Don't ask…

Disclaimer: Don't own – don't sue.

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