It had been a freak accident with an old Atari game console that Neal had used to patch a short-circuited amp. Something had flashed, millions of colors had vanished, and they'd found themselves...here. Blocky & pixelish & staring at each other in disbelief.

"Fuuuck," Neal said. "You look damn goofy as a cartoon, Perry."

"We all do," Ross said. "What the hell happened?"

"Does it matter?" Smitty said. He wasn't sure what he was breathing was air, but decided it was best to not think about it. "We're here, and we're stuck."

"Maybe someone there knows what's going on," Jonathan said, nodding towards the run-down house. "Or how to get out."

Overgrown weeds ran rampant; the house was old & weary-looking. Jonathan & Neal reached the house first, but couldn't see anyone inside, and their pounding on the door brought no response.

"Around back," Neal said. "We can break in & try to call for help."

"Yeah," Jonathan said grimly. "Like a cartoon phone's gonna reach the cops? Or Herbie?"

Smitty followed, eyeing the decrepit house. He was grinning. "Well, you guys SAID you wanted to play somewhere really different..."

"Smitty," Steve said, "shut up."

There was a open archway at the back, and no sign of anyone in the house, though the lights were lit. Jonathan & Neal jumped the rail and went in to search. Ross stopped on the deck, staring at the instruments sitting there. It was as if the place...was planned...

"At least SOMEONE had his priorties straight," said Smitty with a sly grin, as he spotted the tall weed growing in the backyard.

"Priorities, hell," Ross said. "If Neal EVER thinks about repairing his own !@#$ again, I'll kill him first."

"Since when did you start saying '!@#$'?" Smitty said.

Ross stared, his face suddenly pale.