Avocado Craft

"Okay...what the hell just happened?"

His mouth hung open while he blinked several times to press the rewind button within his memories. Nick was sitting on the living room sofa playing Minecraft, collecting more oak wood in preparation for a mining trip. Suddenly, his brain felt heavy, and black dots slowly clouded his vision as his body collapsed onto the couch. When he opened his eyes again, they showed him a bright green 32-bit forest in broad daylight, exactly where he was in the world before he passed out.

"Orlin must have slipped something in during the Subway mukbang," he ridiculed, "There's no way I'm actually in Minecraft right now."

Whether or not he was correct, there was no time to decide before another player stepped into the scene. With the white smiley face character and neon green background on his skin, anyone living outside of a rock would start to sweat once they spotted him.

"Holy shit! Have I seriously stumbled upon Nikocado Avocado?"

"Dream?"

Nick stared at the famous Youtuber with eyes wider than himself.

"Oh my god, it's really you!" Dream laughed.

"Of course it's me," Nick retorted, "Although, I don't know why I'm here, and because I can't recall inviting you to my private minecraft server, I assume you have something to do with it."

"How did you get your skin to look like that?"

Despite Mincraft's cuboid natural system, Nick was wide and round as always. His dark raven fauxhawk remained stylish, matching his coffee eyes and contradicting his milk tea skin. He wore some black sandals and shorts, which could not catch the heat from Minecraft's fake sun. Then, of course, there's that big, bright red shirt; the cursed shirt; the end-of-the-world shirt; the shirt. Whenever Nick wears the red shirt of doom, the human race knows that they must stand back if they want to keep living.

"Don't you dare ignore my accusations!" he hissed, projecting the energy from the shirt.

"Alright, fine." A shiny, blue diamond sword appeared within Dream's cubical version of a hand. "You're here to duel with me."

Nick scoffed, "You know, you could've just DM'd me on Twitter instead of -"

But Dream was already walking towards him, the sword swinging along his side.

"Wait. Wait. I have to find my sword first." Nick fretted, slowly backing away with his hands stretched out in front of him.

"Your sword isn't on you right now."

"But how am I supposed to fight you?!" At this point, Dream's sword was too close to wait for a response. Nick grabbed his 350-pound self and spirited away through the green forest of squares. Nothing was able to hold him back, while he thanked the lack of the existence of a stamina bar. Each step through the trees brought him closer to the desired plains location of his wooden house, where a spare diamond sword should reside in a large chest. Question is, did that disappear as well? What if the whole base was gone? The only way Nick could answer these questions was whether or not he would see it.

Luckily, after a marathon of unreal nature, the building still stood in its spot with its simplistic structure of oak wood, torches, and a door. Not slowing down, he barged through the door, slamming it behind him without looking back. He rushed over to the large chest and flew open the lid as it creaked. His eyes lit up once he spotted the blue, pixelated weapon lying amongst all the other miscellaneous items he had stored. He grasped the handle to the point where his knuckles turned white, then held it up at his side while facing the entrance of his house. Dream had yet to kick the door open. A couple minutes later, Nick mobilized his fighting stance by edging himself towards where he could be harmed from a surprise attack if he was too quick. No amount of neon green was spotted in the door's top four squares, and once Nick was finally pressing his giant body against it, all he was able to see was a blue sky, grassy and floral plains, and the woods from which he had just escaped out of.