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Revenge of the Baku

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“You can’t be serious!” Pitch shouted to no one in particular, or at least no one present. He could barely hear his own voice over the pop music filling his mindscape, but, as he had hoped, someone else could hear him well enough. Sandy blinked into view, immediately wincing at the wall of sound and covering his ears with his hands.

“There, you see!” He said, adding sand-signs as soon as he saw Sandy squinting at his lips. “This is awful. Inhumane. And I don’t think you should get to cover your ears for something you created.”

Sandy frowned and lowered his hands, only to replace them at once with dreamsand earmuffs. He gestured around at the surreality of the shifting landscape. This was a dream, sure, but not one of his. He would never make anything so loud. Besides, as far as he could tell, this dream didn’t seem to have much to do with Pitch in particular at all. Unless the horses had something to do with it?

“I don't think so,” said Pitch. “But why is this in my head? Can’t you make it go away?”

Sandy sent out a few strands of dreamsand towards a slow-motion explosion and lightly touched it in a few places, looking thoughtful. His face cleared after a few moments and he turned back to Pitch, forming a tapir above his head. 

“The Baku!” Pitch ran his hands over his face. “But why? I haven’t seen them in decades!”

Sandy looked sheepish. He didn’t want to say for sure, but the Baku might be doing this on his behalf. He had told the story of Pitch’s latest world domination attempt to the Baku recently, and the Baku had said that they didn’t think one good sucker punch was enough revenge for murder.

“Yes…well…” Pitch looked around again. “But this doesn’t seem like revenge, either! This is just plain weird. Can you tell how to get it to stop?”

Sandy shook his head. He couldn’t think with all this noise. He let Pitch know that he’d be back shortly and winked out.

After what seemed like an interminable amount of time, but probably wasn’t that long, since Pitch only saw the cycle around him repeat twice, Sandy appeared again, this time with Jack in tow.

“I have to say, this is not what I expected the inside of Pitch’s brain to look like,” Jack said.

“It doesn’t usually look like this,” Pitch said through gritted teeth before turning to Sandy. "Why is he here?”

It turns out the only way to get rid of the dream is to play it through, Sandy explained. And all the scenes around us are actually part of a music video.

“Which means…what?” Pitch asked warily.

“It means you’re going to sing and dance!” Jack said. “And don’t worry. Enthusiasm is all that’s required, and the yetis say you’re a pretty good dancer anyway.”

Pitch narrowed his eyes. “Go on.”

Jack cleared his throat theatrically. “And this is what you have to do.” He demonstrated. 

“All right,” said Pitch. “Perhaps this is revenge after all.”

“So you’re going to do it?” A gleeful smile spread across Jack’s face. “Sandy, let’s dance backup when we can!”

“I–what–well, I suppose it doesn’t make that big of a difference,” Pitch said. “All right, let’s get this over with. Oppa Gangnam Style!