All he had wanted was to take a nice stroll outside. Take in the scenery, get some fresh air filtered through a cigarette or two, and figure out a way to get the hell out of the place. It had sounded like a simple yet solid plan. At least until he had stepped outside and found himself in a weird nightmare version of a... town? It took a solid five minutes for him to realize that his clothes were different, mostly because he was busy taking in his surroundings, but also because clothes were nothing more than a minor inconvenience in his life and he had never cared though.
But black and pink plaid pants? and a yellow and blue striped shirt? It looked like someone on a serious trip had hastily thrown together clothes with random pieces of fabric. But given the circumstances he decided that was the least of his problems and moved on.
Interestingly enough, it took even longer to realize he was toting around what looked like the world's weirdest croquet mallet, the end being a bird's head that looked about as thrilled as he was. All in all, not the weirdest experience he'd had in his life, or even the past year, but it was up there.
He was in the process of sauntering over towards the houses and around the first to see what's up when he heard the door of the hotel opening behind him. Cigarette between his lips he spun around to see who had joined him, and his face fell along with the cigarette from his mouth. Damn his luck, or lack thereof.
"Fuck me sideways, I thought something smelled awful in there, should've known it was you, dead wife."