The sky laughs in bubbles of cloud, the ground hiccups tiny graves, and somewhere in the distance, a hole waits with its little red flag, hungry, patient. Arrows scream directions that no one listens to, and the world tilts just a little more off-center. Is it war? A race? A cosmic joke? Who's running, and who's already fallen? Step closer, but not too close—you might trip into the joy yourself...