Dec 28, 2012
You continue along the path until you emerge, blinking, into the sun, or at least into whatever serves as a light source for this fragmented reality. You quickly realize that right here it's not the sun at all. Somehow, the soil under your feet gradually turns into some sort of man-made material, and you realize that instead of having a canopy of leaves over your head you have a ceiling.
You have walked straight into the Skype house, and while it may not be Skypemas, you are at least sure from the noises of chaos all around you that your friends will be here.
The End.
