I seem to have just been having incredibly strange dreams recently
I was on a boat heading towards an extremely colourful island where some kind of Bionicle convention was being held. I regarded the fact that I was going by boat as disrespectful, as, allegedly, “Flint Lockwood was able to walk here”. A flashback then suddenly occurred, depicting Flint and his father wading through the water during quite turbulent conditions. “He never gave up”, I remarked, before jumping out of the boat and walking the rest of the distance to the island out of respect for what Flint had achieved.
Upon my arrival, it became clear to me that Plastic Beach (you know, from Gorillaz) was situated directly behind the island. Upon looking at it, I noticed a small child vandalising a concrete slab near the entrance. When I approached them, they made a rude gesture at me, so I responded by giving them a thumbs up, which seemed to shock them and cause them to retreat. I got out my phone to look for directions, but I failed immediately and so wandered about until I eventually found @MaxinePrimal halfway down a set of stairs. She was apparently also going to the convention, and her phone was working properly so I followed her to the convention hall, which was underground.
Once I was inside the hall, it became immediately apparent that this was more a cult than a convention. There were no tables or anything, just a ridiculously massive room that appeared to be modelled after a school sports hall, with a smooth wooden floor and white walls. Thousands of bionicle fans sat cross-legged on the floor, all facing towards a large black stage with a black lectern and microphone on it. @Ghid stood behind the lectern, and was giving a speech to the huge audience.
As I had taken so long to arrive, I was forced to sit down right at the back of the room, next to @Cordax and @ToaJaton. By Ghid’s instruction, everyone in the room brought out their self-mocs and raised them in the air. Before the cult activities could continue any further, Ghid received a breaking news notification on his phone: Jokey Smurf had died. Upon hearing this news, everyone in the hall began mourning, and several people began immediately leaving to make arrangements or book seats at Jokey’s funeral.
I, myself, immediately returned home and began baking a cake for the funeral. I created the rectangular base of the cake by chucking some chunks of another cake into a bowl and mixing it up with a spoon.
The base was covered in green icing to represent grass, and at the front of the rectangle was a small, edible statue of Jokey Smurf, holding a present topped with a cherry in each hand. Behind the statue was a Smurf who was reading Jokey’s eulogy, and behind him was a large white gazebo with open sides pitched above a plinth which supported Jokey’s body. Jokey and the plinth were both covered by a large white sheet, while mourning Smurfs could be seen further in the back, behind the gazebo.
Before I could actually attend the funeral, I woke up.
