Brian Takes the Stage

Brian landed with a soft *thump* onto something wonderfully springy and vibrantly green. The air here was different, too. It smelled of sunshine and something sweet, like flowers he’d only imagined in his wildest Martian dreams. He was in a kaleidoscope of colors, a place buzzing with sounds and giggles that tickled his… well, his jar. He blinked, his single, large eye swiveling around. This was it. This was Earth.

His spectator tap shoes, usually so confident on the dusty Martian plains, felt a little wobbly on this strange, bouncy ground. He’d tumbled through the shimmering portal, his friends Zorp and Gleep cheering him on until the very last second, and now… now he was here, alone, but not quite.

A group of small, noisy creatures, who he soon realized were children, were staring. Their eyes were wide, their mouths were open, and their gazes were fixed not on his jar, but on his feet. Specifically, on his black and white spectator tap shoes.