Basically, the plot was the same as any episode. The policemen find a drunk guy, he acts like an idiot, they mace him, and then put him in a cell so he can continue to act like an idiot. It was just what I needed to get my mind off of trying to decide whether I was crazy or not. During a commercial break, I went into the kitchen and grabbed a soda. When I came back I sat back down and heard someone to the side of me say "You know, I don't get reality t.v. shows. I mean isn't the whole purpose of Television to have an escape from reality?"
I looked over but only saw the other end of the couch. "Who said that?" I asked, not waiting for an answer before I got up to see. 'No one,' I thought. 'That's just more evidence piling up that you're off your rocker.'
Then that same no one proceeded to mock my choice of entertainment once more. "Seriously, I could do a way better drunk than that."
"Ok, funny. Ha ha. Alright come on. Who's there?"
It turned out that I was right because he answered, "No one, I am a figment of your imagination."
"Huh, well are you going to try to kill me too? Because you kind of forfeited having the element of surprise."
"Alright, your no fun. I'm invisible, but if you say 'iddawmanity' (idd-AH-muh-nit-ee) five times really fast, you'll be able to see me."
"And you're sure I want to be able to see you?" I said, still looking around to see where his voice was coming from.
"Come on, just do it."
I sighed, unamused. "Alright, whatever. Iddawmanity iddawmanity iddawmanityiddawmanityiddawmanity."
"Pahhhh! ha ha! It gets 'em every time."
"What?"
"Oh nothing... Pahaha"
"Ok, how old are we?" I said finally getting the joke.
"I'm four hundred and thirty-two. How about you?"
"Twenty-two. Wait, why are you still invisible?"
"Alright, keep your sneakers on."
"Poof" he said sarcastically, as he appeared, sitting on the couch."
He was almost completely bald, with a thin patch of gray hair around the back of his head. He had a short gray beard and was wearing what looked like peasant clothes from the renaissance period. He kind of looked like... well...
"I'm a midget." He said, breaking the silence.
"Oh, well yeah, of course. I thought you guys preferred to be called 'little people.'"
"Actually, the politically correct term has always been 'people of short stature.' 'Little people' sounds like it puts us on a lower platform that everyone else. Personally, I think it shouldn't matter as much as it does. Our feelings aren't hurt any easier than the next guys."
"Huh, that's interesting. So... why exactly are you here?"
“Because you, my friend, are in deep trouble.”
“Ok, I kind of got that when I caught on fire and had Beaver “Cleaver” try to kill me, while his five digited friend tried to take me out at the ankles. Since when is it a crime to turn a scary lady into a bunny? In my sleep!” I shouted.
“Since you released the only thing that was keeping your world and our world from dying off!” he shouted back just as loudly.
I sat there for about a moment and a half wondering what the heck he could have meant, until David came out from his room.
“Dude! Who the heck are you yelling at? He screamed, looking around.
I looked to the other end of the couch, and as I suspected, Wizard was gone.
“Oh, that. I just got into the show a little too much. You know how Cops is.” I said, trying not to show how proud I was for coming up with that so quickly.
“Oh yeah, that makes sense.” He replied, just before I became relieved thinking I was off the hook. “So some guy on TV got in trouble for turning a lady into a bunny, and you just didn’t like how the cops handled the situation?”
“Yeah... wait no… what are you talking about?” I babbled.
“You know what. Are you seeing things again?” he interrogated.
“Okay, yes. You happy? I’m crazy. I just started to have a conversation with a midget about why someone from a parallel universe wants to kill me, but was interrupted; and now I don’t know where he went, but I would very much like to hear the part where he tells me what to do so I don’t die or kill off the human race!” I yelled, faster than I thought possible. I then looked up to the ceiling, although in hindsight it doesn’t make much sense why, and screamed, “You can come out now. David’s cool. I can make him say the magic words though if you want him to.”
I waited, but nothing happened until David asked, “What magic words?”
