Imagination

            Green. Polka dots. Upside down. Singing Treeman Joe-Bob didn't understand what was going on. Just three seconds ago he was hand washing his underwear in the sink, and now everything was changing. Checkered. Swirled. Confusion. He felt a hand touch his bum.

            "Ah! Who the bloody man parts are you?!" Singing Treeman Joe-Bob demanded.

            "I'm your imagination. You stopped using me, and I'm pissed off." The figure answered in Aladdin's voice. It was a hooded thing, only about half of Singing Treeman Joe-Bob's height.

            "Imagination, I'm really busy right now. Do you have any idea how many pairs of undies I have to wash today?"

            "You should be more like me. I don't wear undies. The more freedom in life, the better." Imagination said proudly.

            "That's disgusting. Undies are what keep people civilized. We rely on things like undies to keep us together." Singing Treeman Joe-Bob argued. Imagination removed his head and started giggling.

            "And why would you want to be kept together?" Imagination one by one removed his dark blue fingers and toes, laughing to himself.

            "Because that's how people function, by keeping themselves together. Ouch! What are you doing?!" Singing Treeman Joe-Bob got really angry. Imagination had started throwing his fingers and toes at him. Thud. Thud. "What's your problem?! I have a violent imagination. How do you know that you're my imagination?"

            "Well, I'm alone all the time. My job isn't working to its full potential. And I watch you. Day after day. Its like watching a black and white movie with no sound. Dull. Boring. So I brought you here to save you." Imagination carelessly continued to toss his fingers and toes around.

            "Save me from what?" Singing Treeman Joe-Bob's anger faded into confusion. A pair of undies fell at his feet. Then another.

            "An empty life of unhappiness and misery of course. People need their imagination. It keeps them amused, happy, and makes the world unique. Imagining things is more important than wearing underwear." As the imagination spoke, more undies fell.

            "But I am happy! I have a nice house, a great job, all the money I'll ever need. Sitting around daydreaming nonsense things isn't going to help me." The undies were starting to go up to Singing Treeman Joe-Bob's knees. He tried ignoring them.

            "You aren't really happy. Inside you're suffering. I see you. I'm part of you. You really desire freedom. For your office walls, the walls in your house, the walls in your mind, to all fall down. And I'm taking you to that place. Follow me." The imagination dove down and started swimming in the undies. They were in danger of going over Singing Treeman Joe-Bob's head by now, and he couldn't think of anything else to do.

            The undies were surprisingly easy to swim in. They all flowed out of Singing Treeman Joe-Bob's house and seemed to form a river down his neighborhood. All the undies carried them far away from anything Singing Treeman Joe-Bob recognized.

            The two of them were carried off to a place where the grass was blue and the sky was green. Giant watermelons grew out of the ground like boulders, and from the distance there was an ocean of bubbles as if it were really one huge bubble bath.

            “Down by the bay, where the watermelons grow.” Imagination smiled. His fingers and toes had grown back twice as much, and his head seemed unbalanced on his neck. The hooded black cloak seemed to be the only thing keeping him together. “You’ve been here before.”

            “I haven’t thought about this place since I was a little kid.” Singing Treeman Joe-Bob looked around in amazement. The imagination was eating the boulder-sized watermelons, and messily spraying bits of watermelon everywhere. As the watermelon seeds hit the ground, they turned into butterflies and flew away. Singing Treeman Joe-Bob reached for one of the butterflies, but as he saw his hand he gasped. “Imagination, why is my skin turning blue?!”

            “Good, its working.” The imagination seemed satisfied by this.

            “What is?”

            “You’ll see.”

           “No really, tell me.” This request was ignored. Imagination was pulling out his eyeballs and eating them with watermelon. Singing Treeman Joe-Bob had never seen his imagination’s face, but the eyes were sparkly black and had multiple pupils.  Like his fingers and toes, eyeballs seemed to grow back too. Singing Treeman Joe-Bob tried pulling out his fingers and toes, but they wouldn’t budge. He decided to try some of the watermelon. Singing Treeman Joe-Bob took out his pocket knife, and sliced open one of the nearby watermelon. Inside were hundreds of black birds and they all swarmed out of there. Imagination laughed insanely.

            “You haven’t put enough belief into this place to actually see or taste watermelon yet. Just accept everything you see and try again.” Singing Treeman Joe-Bob did as his imagination told. They were in an imaginary place he visited in his childhood thoughts. It was real. He looked into the hollow green dome again and saw that it was full of watermelon. It was the juiciest, reddest, most delicious watermelon he had ever eaten. Singing Treeman Joe-Bob’s skin turned a deeper shade of blue.

            When they were done eating, Singing Treeman Joe-Bob’s feet left the ground. He was floating upside down toward the sky. The imagination was floating with him, but doing mid-air summersaults and zooming around him happily.

            “Where are we going now?” Singing Treeman Joe-Bob asked.

            “What do you imagine that’s in the sky?” Imagination grinned. Singing Treeman Joe-Bob’s expression turned panicky. He knew where they were going. Heaven. He knew that this was a very happy place, but it still worried him. He wasn’t ready to see all his diseased friends and relatives yet. Death scared him, and thinking about anyone who died depressed him too much. He couldn’t do it.

            “Take me somewhere else Imagination, anywhere else.” Singing Treeman Joe-Bob begged. Imagination shook his head. They went through what felt like a massive amount of cotton candy, and Singing Treeman Joe-Bob found himself standing on a floor made of marshmallow. Something was licking his faded blue hands. He looked down and saw his beagle, Salmon. Salmon had been dead for at least ten years, she had been run over by a car. Her once mutilated body now seemed to be young and healthy again. Singing Treeman Joe-Bob kneeled down to pet Salmon. He got his face licked a few times before watching his dog run off. Singing Treeman Joe-Bob chased after her.

            Salmon had lead him to a huge pink-leafed tree. One of the branches was a swing, and a little girl in party dress and blonde pigtails was pushing an old woman. They were his niece and Grandmother. The little girl, Sillypants Mary-Sue, had died at the age of seven. Singing Treeman Joe-Bob’s eyes welled with tears. He couldn’t think about his niece without sobbing. He had never had any children of his own, and she had been his sister’s only child. Singing Treeman Joe-Bob walked up to them and hugged them.

            “Hi Uncle Joe-Bob!” Sillypants Mary-Sue nearly shouted with so much excitement. “Hi Uncle Joe-Bob’s imagination!” Singing Treeman Joe-Bob had forgotten that his imagination was there too. The imagination shook hands with the little girl, but his hand popped off. Sillypants Mary-Sue laughed. The old woman smiled weakly up at them.

            “Everyone is exactly how you remember them.” Imagination answered just as Singing Treeman Joe-Bob was about to ask. He had wondered why his grandmother wasn’t her young self again. They spent a good amount of time up in heaven. Salmon, Sillypants Mary-Sue, Singing Treeman Joe-Bob, and his imagination played together happily in an old playground by the pink-leafed tree. Singing Treeman Joe-Bob’s grandmother just watched, never keeping the small smile off her face.

            By what felt like the end of the day, Singing Treeman Joe-Bob’s imagination whispered, “Its time to go Singing Treeman Joe-Bob”

            “No, I can’t go. Not back to my dull life back on earth. I want to stay here with the people who make me happy.”

            “Life won’t be dull back at home, and you’ll have everyone from heaven with you. Look at your skin.” Singing Treeman Joe-Bob obeyed. It was completely dark blue. He looked at his imagination’s hands. They were paper white.
            “What is this?”

            “You have your imagination in you now. And you can visit the places I showed you anytime you want. The whole time you just needed me to guide you to them.” Singing Treeman Joe-Bob’s imagination lowered its hood. Singing Treeman Joe-Bob saw himself.

He looked back at his blue hands, and found them back to normal in the bathroom sink with a pair of undies.

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A/N: Wow, this had the two things that I usually avoid writing. Fantasy and corny moments. This is my first time writing a story like this, and it would be great to know what your thoughts on it were =)

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