The entrance to the castle was as grand as the outside had been. Tapestries hung from the walls and there were a thousand doors lining the stone hall. "Follow me young Spike, and don't stray from the path or else you maybe become lost forever."

"Wha?"

"There is raw dream stuff all around us. Raw dream stuff is very dangerous, even to those who were created from it. The castle is heavily saturated with it and unsafe for people who don't know their way around."

"Great, wonderful! Isn't there anything safe around here?!"

"Things are never as they seem to be." Replied Gilbert patiently.

The two adventurers walked to the end of the stone hall. A great wooden door stood there and somehow Spike knew it was the door to the Dream King's throne room. He found that, for one of the few times in his life, he was nervous. "What am I supposed to say to him?"

"Be polite," instructed the old man, "Don't threaten or beg. He will let you have your say, but only briefly so use it wisely. You will be alright young Spike, I wish you luck."

"You're not coming?" asked the cowboy.

"This business is between you and him, I have none being there. Good bye young Spike, I have enjoyed our adventure together."

"Good bye Gilbert," returned Spike, giving him a casual salute and a smile. And with that, he opened the door.