You feel the world spinning around you until something knocks you down and you go flying. You land on a doorstep in front of a brown wood door. Getting up you feel a sense of familiarity, as if you've seen this place before but can't put your finger on it. Then the front door opened up to Al Bundy and you realized you must have been sucked into your favorite sitcom. That or you are in some type of very realistic dream or hallucination. "What do you want?" Al asks you, he is wearing brown loafers, brown slacks, a light blue button up and a tie.
"Are you Al Bundy?"
"Yeah, what are you a debt collector. Jokes on you, I'm broke." You hear a laugh track which enforces your theory that you are on the show.
"No, are you the Al Bundy who scored four touchdowns in one game?" Buttering up Al with his greatest achievement.
"Why, yes I am." His tone changed as soon as you mentioned that. "I suppose you'd want my autograph." You unironically do. Quickly you think of a backstory for yourself.
"Yeah, actually I'm your cousin... Rocky Bundy. I-I am traveling the country and thought I could stop by to meet some family.
"Well what are you waiting for. Get in." You are invited into the Bundy house. It looked just like it did on the show. The brown wooden floor, the yellow couch who's flower designs matches the wallpaper. The brick wall wall with the gold clock on it and the staircase behind it. You see the closet door to your right, the sliding door past it, the kitchen across from you and the wall and TV to your left.
"So that's what that wall looks like." You say as Al leads you deeper into the house. The smell hits you though, smelling like used bowling shoes with a hint of hopelessness and poverty.
"If you want to sleep here, the couch is all yours. Although you'll have to fight Buck for a pillow." You hear audience laughter from that. "How are we related again?"
"Oh, I am your mother's sister's grandson..." You try to come up but luckily are saved by a shrill voice screaming from the backyard.
"Al Bundy. For the last time, you have to clean up after your dog." That has to be Marcy D'Arcy, her blond haired head pocking out from the backyard fence.
"Hey, I think your watch is broken. Isn't the rooster was supposed to cock-a-doodle-doo at dawn." Al and you laughed. "That's my neighbor Marcy. Don't worry about her, she's harmless as long as you put your hand on her forehead and keep her at arms length." The audience laughs as you try not to yourself. "Oh dang, I just noticed the time. I gotta go to work. Hey, do you want to come with and see what this football legend does or you can stay here? I'm sure Pegg or someone will come by soon" You think about what to do next.
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