An adult Mordecai stood at the edge of the wooden platform.

Turning his head side to side, he scanned the scenery. "Camp TJ is just like I remember it", he thought.

To the left was the lake, and to the right was the camp (a group of cabins surrounding a gravel cul-de-sac). In the distance, he saw pine trees and mountains stretching out as far he could see. Straight ahead, 50 feet away, was his destination, a wood platform attached to a tree, similar to the one he stood on now. Standing on that platform was Coach Troy, holding a megaphone. He looked down. "I must be 50 feet above the ground," he thought. His knees quivered as he thought about how high off the ground and how far from his destination he stood. Neither the safety net strung between the platforms nor the cheers of a crowd gathering below offered him any reassurance.

Gazing into the crowd, he saw many familiar faces: his parents, his grandparents, Rigby, his co-workers, Benson, Eileen, and Margaret. He closed his eyes, as he listened to them chanting his name.

"MORDECAI!" shouted the Coach through his megaphone.

"YOU READY?"

"Um, Um, Um, Um..." Mordecai replied, nervously.

"ARE YOU SCARED, SON?"

"Um, Um, Um, Um..."

"DON'T BE, YOU GOT THIS!"

"REMEMBER WHAT I TAUGHT YOU. ENGAGE YOUR CORE NOT JUST YOU ARMS. NICE LONG EVEN STROKES, NOT SHORT FLAPS. KEEP YOUR EYES FORWARD. TUCK YOUR FEET IN TO REDUCE DRAG. BUT WHEN YOU'RE READY TO LAND: FEET FORWARD, TALONS OUT."

"Even strokes...engage the core...face forward...feet back. When landing, talons out" Mordecai repeated Coach Troy's words to himself.

"ARE YOU READY?"

"Yes, Sir"

"GOOD, THEN LET'S DO THIS!"

"Eyes forward... Even strokes... Here it goes."

Mordecai stepped back to the opposite edge of the platform to given himself a running start and generate momentum. He spread his wings as wide as he could, and took off.

Mordecai was off the platform and soaring through the air. "Long even strokes," he said to himself as he flapped his wings.

"LOOKING GOOD OUT THERE"

"Thanks, Coach!"

"YOU'RE HALFWAY ACROSS, REMEMBER HOW TO LAND"

"Yeah, I stick my feet forward and spread my talons for grip"

"GREAT, WHAT'D I TELL YOU, YOU GOT THIS"

Mordecai briefly looked around below him, taking in the scenery.

"Wow, I'm flying, I'm actually flying!" he shouted.

"That's my baby boy!" shouted his Mom.

Muscleman ripped off his shirt, twirled it over his head, and screamed, "WOOT! WOOT!"

"Go, Mordecai!" Margaret cheered.

Meanwhile, a squirrel appeared with a pine cone.

"Cool," said Mordecai. "I wonder what's he doing with that pine cone?"

Mordecai was mesmerized by the squirrel, who was now repeatedly smashing it against a rock to get to the delicious pine nuts inside.

He stopped flapping his wings and started losing altitude.

"What's he doing?" Coach thought.

Unable to open it manually, the squirrel grabbed a miniature jackhammer and proceeded to use it on the stubborn cone.

"Woah, I wonder he got that from?" said an amazed Mordecai.

"MORDECAI!" shouted Coach Troy through his megaphone.

"Huh"

"MORDECAI!"

"YOU'RE LOSING ALTITUDE, KID! PULL UP! PULL UP!"

Mordecai turned away from the squirrel and looked forward again. The platform was 12 feet away. Unfortunately, it was also 12 feet above him, and he was heading straight for the tree instead.

Mordecai started panicking. He flapped his wings furiously but was unable to generate any lift.

"Damn kid's put himself into a stall, better come after him!" said the Coach to himself, as he threw down the megaphone and took off. He swooped down towards Mordecai. Unfortunately, he couldn't get his wing close enough for Mordecai to grab onto.

"SHIT!"

The tree was now inches from Mordecai's face. A loud crash was heard and then everything faded to black.

"Uh, where am I?"

Mordecai gazed at the familiar surroundings. He was lying in a hospital bed. He was wearing a white gown, tubes were hooked from his arms to an IV and a sensor was attached to his finger to measure his pulse. A steady beeping sound could be heard in the background. Wilted flowers, a get well card, and a teddy bear were on placed on the nightstand beside his bed.

A brown-haired man, wearing a white doctor's coat, and holding a clipboard loomed over the foot of the bed.

"Who are you!? Where am I!? What is the place!? Where is Coach Troy!? My Mom !? Margaret!? Where is everybody?" said a panicked Mordecai, eyes wide with fear.

"You must be Mordecai?"

"Hi there, I'm Dr. Stuart, Chief Neurologist at Delta City Hospital.

"That was quite the head injury you sustained. You were in a coma for six weeks."

"Six weeks?"

"Long time, huh? Anyway, I've got some important people I'd like you to meet."

The doctor opened the door, and in walked the visitors.

First came his family, followed by Coach Troy. Next, his best friend, Rigby. Shortly thereafter, came Benson and the rest of the park crew.

Last to come in was Margaret. She was walking alongside and holding hands with a muscular man wearing a red polo shirt. She wore a large diamond ring on her left hand.

Mordecai looked at her speechlessly.

"Mordecai, you're awake!" she said.

Mordecai was still speechless, but his brow furrowed in anger as he turned his gaze towards the ring.

"Please, Mordecai...Don't be mad with me."

"It was just that: You were in a coma. I didn't know when you'd wake up. Then I met Dave, and we're together..."

Mordecai squinted his eyes and furrowed his brow some more.

"Please Mordecai, I don't want things to end this way."

Mordecai finally said something, "Go away. Just go."

Margaret and Dave left the room. As they walked down the hall, a woman's crying could be heard in the distance.

"Bitch," muttered Mordecai.

"I know, right!" said Rigby laughing and slapping his friend on the shoulder.

"Rigby? What are you so happy about?"

"Well, Mordecai. Now that I know you suck at both flying and relationships. I can finally feel good about myself for once, and not be so jealous!"

"Man, you bastard," Mordecai sat up, ready to choke his friend, only to be restrained by the multiple IV's and sensors hooked up to his body.

Mordecai woke up. He found himself lying on the floor of a dusty attic, the glass bong from earlier was in an open trunk beside him. "Must've passed out or something," he said to himself.

He dusted himself, shut the trunk, and quietly climbed down the attic stairs. Once down, he gently closed the spring-loaded stairs behind him, taking care not to have them slam against the ceiling.

He tiptoed down the hall and into his darkened bedroom. Rigby was already there, asleep on his trampoline, a comforter covering his face. Mordecai stopped in front of his extra-long twin bed. Slowly, he drew back the sheets, tucked himself in, and closed his eyes.