MC K-Roo awoke with a start, the jolt coursing through his tail to such a degree that he was almost knocked from his bed entirely; for it was one of those dreams ending with a fall of sorts.

In the dream, The Furry Fury is at a dinner table. And everyroo is serving him & everyroo is being served. Though it is not exactly clear how it’s all happening, it all begins like this: there are suddenly all of these arms coming from behind everyroo around the table, all in the steady process of placing plates & bowls & cups, knives & forks & spoons. And as they all reach in— arms & wings & paws of animals of all kinds, coming in all shapes & sizes— they do not come from directly straight back, but at a 45° angle. Upon their completion of the task of setting the table, everyroo present sees that there are vessels & plates & utensils— picking them up & examining them even, as if to verify the fact of their being what they appear to be— and everyroo is hungry, their mouths extremely dry.
        The Troopa is no exception, and so his eyes light up when arms from behind him return with what can only be the main course. As if from behind a soft, black curtain of vertical night (or of filmic special effects, even): arms serve onto all’s plates steaming cuts of choice meats, heaping spoonfuls of mashed potatoes & various grains, local as well as eclectic vegetables of every kind— and all having been prepared in all ways imaginable; as if fit for a king of a boundless kingdom. Ladlefuls of a sort of never-before-seen soup soon appear, which seems to have everything in all the world within it— indeed, the smell of everything upon the table somehow seemed to be a smell summing to all things ever.
        But then most peculiarly was this: the heavy goblet-like cups began to fill, simply & just like that, without having been poured into at all: upwards from nil, a meniscus was birthed & rose until reaching a line adequate to satiate the animal it would serve.
        The Furry Fury almost couldn’t believe his eyes, thought perhaps he was seeing things. And so he directed his gaze to the cup of the kangaroo next to him: only to find the very same thing happening before his clear-yet-deerblack eyes.
        “Holy jeepers! Did you guys see that? CHRIST!!!!,” the Fury exclaimed, with almost nothing but joeylike excitement. “…almost nothing but” was because: the one other thing evidenced in his eyes was the fact he was incredibly hungry & thirsty— and so before he could but hear anyroo’s reply or comment upon his, all he could hear was the food he was somehow already chewing in mouth, the gulps of that which arrived from his cup. And it tasted like nothing else on Earth he’d ever before tasted, despite that it could only have come from the Earth itself.
        Whereupon the cup refilled itself, and more hands-from-behind replaced new & different food upon his plate & into his bowl. Yet when he looked around the table, no one else was eating— even as everyroo had been served the same incomparable & impeccable dishes. With his face looking down at the delicious provisions before him, his eyes then looked askance to the table’s head. And that’s when he noticed— at the very head of the table & for the very first time— a balded bear wearing a crown, looking down & past that which was there before him. Whereupon Kangaroo instantly knew: this was The Bald Bear King.

And as K-Roo began to raise his gaze to the King, the whole room, table & spread & animals & all, began turning upside down, as if his gaze were the sole lever upon which everything within the room rested.
        It was then & at the very moment just before K-Roo’s gaze met the gaze of The Bald Bear’s that he was jolted awake.