Kermit had been blissfully sleeping in his blanket and pillow covered bed. He was positively knocked out. Limbs askew, blankets kicked down to his feet, mouth half-open as he snored. If he wasn’t careful, his tiny motorhome might start to rock in time with the obnoxious breaths. Just kidding. They weren’t that bad, but he thought they were.

However, he suddenly felt like he was flying — maybe he was dreaming. He cracked an eye open just in case, but he was already no longer floating, instead starfished on the floor of some sleek, gray-and-purpleish room. Or, he thought it was a room. There were three halls branching off where he was at.

He sat up, taking a look around. Where on planet Earth was he? No. That was a lame pun. He definitely wasn’t on American property. Or Russian, it seemed. It looked like something from a… an alien movie.