"Keep It Slick smiled, and knew what he must do."
		Keep It Slick, apparently knocked out in a fight that wasn't his, heard the last ten seconds left to him quickly counted down. He heard the impatient crowd chant the numbers with each drop of the referee's arm, and he heard The Chilli Chilli-Lovers Love laughing and parading around the ring behind him. There would be no stretcher to carry him away, no one to miss him when he faded from existence and the next match began. The Slogan knew the ref had finished '3' and already started '2'. Keep It Slick, the real Keep It Slick back in Purgatory who was disappearing fast, picked himself up from the damp floor. He stood in front of the locked door that led to the main Consciousness foyer, sharing the dying seconds of his distant self as he struggled to stay upright. The Slick in the boxing ring whimpered something to him that he couldn’t hear. The ref hollered ‘2’, and the fallen Slogan repeated his words again, which this time rang clear: "Push!" Keep It Slick's instinct obeyed the distant command, and he threw himself at the large faded door. A brief flicker of jeering fans and a camera's flash filled the Slogan with determination as the door buckled slightly, but vanished when the impact tossed him backwards. The two Slicks suddenly understood their connection, and merged to act on it. A single tick of the ref's hand remained as the Keep It Slicks harnassed the foreign physics of a foreign universe, a strength of spirit their own world had never seen. The Slick on the mat told the other to leap at the door with everything he had, and that Slick told the other, just before he lunged, to rise up from the mat beneath him. A moment later, the heavy door left its hinges, while elsewhere a wounded warrior rose to his feet. A hush fell over the stadium crowd. The frozen hand of the ref was straight out from his body, his mouth poised to form a “one”. The Chilli Chilli-Lovers Love stood motionless, his wide eyes reflecting disbelief and awe. The bell-ringer was first to act, immediately followed by the fierce attack of one small Slogan against a much larger one. Stagg's proud champion buckled after just two punches, the sound as he hit the mat breaking the stadium's silence. The crowd exploded into cheers, and those close enough jumped in the ring to raise their new hero high. Keep It Slick asked to be let down and pushed his way out of the ring. He ran down the isle and out the exit door of the stadium. Slick's eyes closed shut from the bright place outside, but his other senses were met with pleasant smells and sounds he’d never known. Slick, in his dreamy state, looked around and immediately knew the paradise surrounding him. This perfect land where Dreams were born was Imagination, described in tales throughout Stan but only now confirmed. Everything, yet nothing, filled a vast horizon, and colors danced yet revealed no hue. Keep It Slick smiled, and knew what he must do. The Slogan closed his eyes and relaxed, and a passing Dream scooped him up and soared into the whiteness above. Keep It Slick focused on the only dream he'd ever known, and felt the mythical current that carried him change. He concentrated harder, and soon the Dream he rode became his own. Imagination's sky turned grey, then a deep darkness engulfed the Slogan and his Dream. A distant beacon appeared as a tiny speck of light that grew larger with each passing moment. Keep It Slick braced himself as the Dream he piloted rapidly approached the flickering sphere. The light, a small hole that grew to a massive circle as they neared, swirled brightly against the darkness. Keep It Slick grinned as the Dream vaulted him through the portal, his life's purpose suddenly at hand. Quiet. Everything was quiet. Even the white noise of emptiness had no home here. The Dream still flew through the heavy darkness, but made no noise and gained no ground. Keep It Slick grew worried, and called out to the endless fog. His voice died before it was born, however, and the Slogan felt his destiny slip away. Then a distant voice suddenly pierced the emptiness, a whisper at first but then louder, and the laughter that followed seemed even closer.
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