I awoke in a daze to the sound of the gentle swishing of my windshield wipers, just in time to jerk the steering wheel to the right to avoid an oncoming truck. Strangely enough, I didn't remember ever getting in the car, nor where I was heading at the time. All I really knew for certain is that my beloved sock puppet, Muffy, lay in the passenger seat next to me, and the sight of her was always a comforting one. Muffy was directly responsible for helping me overcome my fear of socks when I was but a lad. In my mind, socks were a thing not to be trusted, as they were likely infested with demons and all sorts of evil mannerisms. But Muffy changed all that, and she also helped me with my calculus homework from time to time. Nonetheless, as great as Muffy was, not even she could explain where it was I was headed, so I turned the car around and headed back home.

Home. It was where I lived. I chose to live in a house, even though deep in my heart I had always longed to take up residence in a tube filled to the brim with tacks. Nevertheless, I lived in a house, and for all intents and purposes, it was a good one. True, the attic was infested with gypsy moths with self esteem issues, and true, it was built on top of an ancient gerbil burial ground, but it was alright with me. And so, I lived there, mostly because the gnome I bought the place from gave me an excellent deal on the place, and he threw in a partially digested squirrel colon. An offer like that was one that not even a sophisticated moose psychologist such as myself could turn down.

Thusly, I put aside the insane previous event involving the car, and laid myself down to sleep. I awoke in a daze several hours later to a sound that I wasn't quite sure if it actually existed, or if I just perceived it to be so. A quick glance towards my stomach revealed the source of the peculiar sound. It was Muffy. She had once again mistaken my bowels for her own special blend of puppet food I prepared her on a nightly basis. I was not amused. I grew weary of sewing myself up almost weekly. Still, Muffy was a good puppet, and I was a pretty forgiving soul. And so, I forgave her, once again, and drifted back off to dreamland. The porpoises with human faces that appeared in my dreams did nothing to convince me of my own sanity.

Sleep is a wondrous thing. I dreamt of many magical things such as alpacas with popsicle hooves. That is, until, I awoke several minutes later in a daze. The elderly man that was next to me in bed was a horrifying sight to anyone born with functional eyes. "Gerbils.." he halfheartedly muttered. A more horrific phrase had never been muttered by a strange old man in bed with me in all my days. Not only horrific, but also perplexing. "Gerbils?" I asked, with a puzzled look on my face. He simply nodded, and proceeded to slap me with what I could only assume was a frozen salisbury steak dinner. It was not uncommon for me to assume objects that I was uncertain of were frozen salisbury steak dinners. I recalled with some fondness a time two years ago when I fumbled around in a dark room for three hours, looking for my keys, but finding only frozen salisbury steak dinners in large quantities. Oddly enough, there was no such freezer in the room, and the objects were of varying sizes and weights, but in my own mind, they were all frozen salisbury steak dinners, regardless.

Still, the old man's solitary phrase still rang in my head as if it were only minutes ago. Partly because it was only minutes ago that he said it. I decided that there was only one thing to do. I must investigate. And so, with Muffy in tow, I headed towards the front door to take a peek outside. Unfortunately, I was quite tired from my restless night and passed out just next to the door. I awoke several minutes later in a daze, but somehow managed to pull myself up and take a peek outside the door. An army of undead gerbils lay in wait, staring at me with cold dead eyes, the likes of which I had seen only in the mirror.

The elderly man was quite clear on what I needed to do. I must travel to the cave of excrement, to find the one object that could defeat the zombie gerbil horde. I was unsure of whether or not to trust the old man, but I saw no reason for a random elderly man to lie to me. I was good to the old man, and he was good to me. Except for the few times he tried to strangle me to death with a rope made of human hair. A minor inconvenience, really. Still, there wasn't time to dodge his futile efforts on my life. I knew I had to make way to the cave of excrement, and obtain the one object.

I wasn't sure what I would need for such a journey, so I grabbed a random collection of supplies and placed them in a sack. I then foolishly lit the sack on fire, and shook my buttocks furiously at the blaze. In my own twisted view on reality, this would appease the Greek god of apricots. And I longed ever so for his apricotty protection. I could only hope that it would be granted to me. Whether it was or not, I'll never know. All I really knew for certain is that my eyelids chose this moment, this horribly timed moment, to become concave and retreat into the recesses of my skull. I screamed the scream of a man that had lost his ability to produce bile.

I screamed for several minutes.. some would say hours, before I came to the realization that standing there screaming was doing little in the way of helping me get to the cave of excrement. It was time to make a move. I had wisely altered a white shirt of mine with a marker to read "I am an undead gerbil" on the front. I figured this would do wonders to fend off their persistent attacks, and I found myself to be correct in this assumption. I made my way out of the house with little hassle, and proceeded down the clearly marked path to the cave of excrement. Muffy and I sang a few random tunes together along the way. Things were beginning to look up.

"You look sexy, Muffy." I said with the grin of a man that had snorted a bit too much cocaine. This seemed to illicit a response. Muffy's eyes glowed a horrifying red. This could only mean one thing. Actually, it could mean two things. Either she got some sort of puppet eye infection, or she was possessed by a fire imp. Fire imps were known to take over the body of inanimate objects from time to time, and the removal of said fire imp required the left arm of a yeti. Luckily, the villagers had informed me a few weeks ago that I was, in fact, part yeti. Without further hesitation, I began chewing off my left arm at the shoulder. I just hoped that I had enough yeti blood in me to fend off the fire imp that did plague my beloved puppet.

Success. Within moments, Muffy's eyes lost their horrible red glow and obtained some level of normalness. A sign to the immediate left revealed that the cave of excrement was merely a half a mile away. Unfortunately, I had already walked half a mile at this point, and felt quite weary. I dozed off to dreamland, where I met a squid with a french accent that had a penchant for juggling live mice. I awoke several moments later in a daze, and stared at my feet for half an hour before deciding to finish up the walk to the cave I did so desperately seek.

The cave of excrement was a horrible place. The deranged individual wielding steak knives that met me at the entrance certainly set an ominous tone. He followed me, step by step, and offered to remove my entrails for a small fee. I was somewhat tempted to take him up on his generous offer, but I wisely refused, remembering that my entrails were probably useful. This turned out to be a wise decision. At least, that's what I was later told.

It wasn't too far into the cave of excrement that I met the horribly disgusting guardian of the one object that could defeat the zombie gerbils. Defeating the guardian of the one object would be no easy task. He was a beast most ferocious, and had at least ten thousand hit points. I quickly equipped my golden armor of valor, and the sword of all powerfulness of Yaskenbeck. Muffy cast a level ten thunder spell that seemed to weaken the creature somewhat. Still, though, I knew to bring the creature down it was going to take a lot more than a thunder spell or two, or random sword thrusts into the genitals. I was going to have to do something drastic. Something I had promised myself I would never do again. I was going to have to dance. I told myself I'd never dance again after the time I broke both hips and both ankles in a particularly heated session. But those zombie gerbils were pretty annoying. And this was the only way to get rid of them. I knew what I had to do.

And do it, I did. I danced like no other. There was no music playing, but I didn't care. I pranced about like a thing possessed. Like a man filled with desire to do nothing else but dance. A man on a mission. A man determined to do what needed to be done, what had to be done. I danced, and danced, and danced. I was not unlike a man juggling a live armadillo. At times it looked cool, and at times I was just being bitten. For you see, Muffy was very unforgiving with her puppet teeth when I misstepped a bit. The guardian of the one object responded by removing it's own head with it's bare hands. Victory. At least for the moment.

However, all that dancing had made me quite weary. I decided it would be best if I took a quick nap before trying to obtain this one object. I awoke several minutes later in a daze, frothing at the mouth, and slapping myself in the face repeatedly with a disembodied monkey arm. I grabbed the one object, or at least what I assumed was the one object and quickly scampered home. The undead gerbils were not amused. The mere sight of this object was enough to make them flee in utter horror. I smiled. Muffy smiled. The dinosaur living in my soup smiled. All was well in my humble home once again.