Earl the Delivery Sheep was normally very laid back regarding his work, so long as he got his package to its destination both intact and on time. He was informal with his boss, lax with his uniform, and near forgetful with safety practices. That day was different. That day he needed his uniform to clearly announce who he was and why he was knocking. That day he would carry the garlic, and the screeching lemmings. In fact, as he left, he made sure to grab extra screeching lemmings before he logged out the package for delivery. He was mostly calm passing through the Vale of Shroudedness, along the Path of Awkward Dreams trying make the delivery. He hesitated before crossing the drawbridge over the moat of popcorning guinea pigs. With reluctance he knocked upon the door of Count Gary Von Pronghorn the 3rd, and tried not to run away. However, as the door began to open, Earl panicked. He threw down the package along with several screeching lemmings, before fleeing in terror. He never forgave himself for wetting his wool that day.
As Earl the Delivery Sheep para-dropped from the delivery plane his sense of unease increased. Earl had done this many times before but never with live cargo. However, carrying a case of live butterflies to a research facility in the mountains was difficult at best, just plain dangerous in winter. After a safe landing on the untouched fields of snow in the Valley of Doom, Earl began his ascent up the Stairs of Forgetfulness. The wind was harsh, cold, and seemed to hum a constant tune he could not quite remember. At the top he found the semi-hidden door to the Laboratory of Silly Research into Benign Things. The doorbell was broken.
Earl the Delivery Sheep never liked odd deliveries. He considered himself a reasonable sheep but having to dig a hole to make a delivery was a bit much. Having to absolutely, no exceptions, dig the hole under the Bridge of Awesome Wafer Thinness next to a Root Beer river though? He was wet and sticky now, not to mention heavy. It would take ages to clean. After burying the wax covered box of board games in the hole came the worst part. To announce to the Beaver that ordered the package that it was there, Earl had to sing. He had to sing We Will Rock You making sure to add the stomps and claps to get the clients attention. Earl hated singing.
Earl the Delivery Sheep was reading his map again. The seventh time in the past ten minutes. He was very, very lost. As Earl sat at the sixth set of crossroads he’d come across in the Forest of Madness the paths around him shimmered and changed. As they changed, so did his map. He’d never been lost before, never not made a delivery on time. Today was going to be that day. He had a package of sloth fur-mold-remover for Penny and Edgar. They hung around on the Tree of Temporality making watches for Comedians with a bad sense of timing. It took another hour for the Forest to stop changing enough for Earl to continue. He decided that next time he’d just para-drop in.