And now we find ourselves in a place where up is down and right is also down, but a scootch less further down than up is. You don’t wanna know where left goes. A place where the clouds rain in whichever direction they please. Left included.

The clouds are blue raspberry-flavored today and the rainbows are sugar cookies. A small hail of gumballs is forecast for today, so we should probably hurry. We’re nearly there: a recliner sits in the middle of a cloud, with a comfy looking ottoman in front of it.

Lazed out on the recliner, with his mismatched feet stretched out comfortably is an odd looking creature…

“Discord.”

What?

“My name is Discord. Start the scene over again; I’ll just forget you’re here.”

Oh.

Okay.

Lazed out on the recliner, with his mismatched feet stretched out comfortably is Discord. On a small side table is a sizable wooden mug. He reaches over, grabs it in his clawed hand and drains it in a huge gulp.

“Ah, Granny Smith, you make the best stuff!” he says, a small appreciative belch escaping his lips. The belch rushes over to us and pops, releasing the smell of apples and cinnamon. Discord looks over to us, a small frown on his face.

“What’s the matter? Can’t a guy enjoy a bit of apple juice in peace? Honestly, I prefer this far more than that "cider" stuff I got. I sure hope it went where it was supposed to when I sent it back; who knows what would happen if it didn’t…”

Discord clicks his tongue and winks.