[ Not Mel Brooks, but there is a man in an eyepatch is being swept along in the surrounding current. Since he's already as soaked as he can be and because logic's apparently away on sabbatical, he's decided to go with the flow, as it were, and let the water take him where it may. Not like he's got anywhere else to be.
That is, until he catches a glimpse of the inexplicable dry patch, with the little red man in a chair.
Then he starts to fight against the flood in earnest, beating his legs against the current as he tries to swim towards the mirror.
It's the first sign he's seen of... anyone, since he found himself in this place. He doesn't think he's felt so desperate for company— any company— before in his life (and that's quite a lot of life.) ]
c.
That is, until he catches a glimpse of the inexplicable dry patch, with the little red man in a chair.
Then he starts to fight against the flood in earnest, beating his legs against the current as he tries to swim towards the mirror.
It's the first sign he's seen of... anyone, since he found himself in this place. He doesn't think he's felt so desperate for company— any company— before in his life (and that's quite a lot of life.) ]