That Cat Is High

The other night, after a particularly strong strain, my couch transformed into a spaceship. I swear, Captain Crunch was my co-pilot as we navigated through the starry cosmos of my living room. The carpet fibers rose up, resembling an alien landscape. My cat, Whiskers, appeared to be giving a TED Talk on quantum physics. In the kitchen, the fridge door became a portal to Snackland, guarded by a fiery-eyed taco. My buddy Jeff floated through, wrapped in a burrito blanket, claiming he was the "Sultan of Snacks." It was only when the pizza delivery arrived that I realized—reality is trippier than any high.