Instead it’s the Eleventh Doctor who bursts onto the scene.with his iconic theme I Am the Doctor. It’s a lavish corridor with bright red tapestry walls covered in paintings, including a massive one near us. My mom is dismayed and asks if he’s been rehabilitated. The two of us lead grandma down the endless hallways filled with clutter. Mom worries that she’ll notice the absurdly long corridor and think it’s a secret passage or something. Eventually, I ponder the logistics of the invisible columns after nearly choking to death on the contents of one. I figure that can’t be possible and that they merely conceal objects within themselves and are not solid themselves and that such furniture would be too big to choke on.
But now in the study hall the twins are at the table doing some goofy stuff that makes me go “see this is why I didn’t get with them” (which is unequivocally false) and float up to the frame of the window to other study hall (we’re in the middle on of three). One of them asks about the one on the other side of the window and I say that I headcanon it doesn’t exist, but now I’m there, the bell rings, and I see a stairway leading up to a series of doors to the outside. I can see the daylight shining through. Who knew I was so close?
I walk up the stairs into a wide open room with an absurdly high sealing and a stained glasses window, which I promptly fly up to and through into the outside of the school. There’s a cement ceiling and columns everywhere. Just outside that I see the cage where the people are playing what a handwritten sign describes as the controversial sport of chickenball. Last time they were playing just with raw chickens that you might see at the grocery store. This time the “chickens” were massive live birds akin to ostriches or emus but completely featherless like the raw chickens of before. They were flinging and throwing them with such absurd force that the impact was deadly. I struggle to make my way past them to the parking lot trying not to get hit and die as they were thrown in my general direction.
I reach the other side where a teacher guides me to safety (a relatively old woman). I gaze past her to the poor person who’s been crushed by a bus and their head that exploded onto the asphalt in the most gruesome way. I try to leave before I get crushed by the many moving school buses but the teacher won’t let me leave. I ask if I could just go around the school over to the football and she says I can’t because I’m being arrested. I protest that I’m innocent but know that technically I am at the scene of the crime (deadly ostrich tossing) so I guess I’m a suspect.
Now I’m in the colorful waiting room of the police academy (looks like an establishment for children, really, whatnot), along with a slew of other suspects from the incident. After a while I get sick of waiting and decide to leave, since the police clearly don’t value my time. As I walk through the door an older criminal passes me by. Then the suspects on the other side of the room see a door and point out the green walls on the other side and how that must be the green area we were supposed to go to, so I come back through the lobby to there and continue down the schoollike hall past the colorfully uniformed teenage police cadets.