For something completely different ...

I thought it was just a trip to the dentist. I was unaware of what was happening behind the scenes in the world of a 21 year old who reads too much. It gives parents an insight into what their young people really see. 

Someone needed to stay in Bed ... 

If I'd known what today's events had in store for me, I'd have gone back to bed. 
I would have, had it not been obliterated by a meteorite the size of a small quadruped.
I would have been more concerned, but being in that all too familiar quasi-conscious-but-mostly-asleep-state one finds themselves in, getting up at 8:15 a.m., especially as a self-professed night-owl, the only thought I had on the matter was "I'll get that after breakfast."
Switching to autopilot, I shuffled out to the kitchen, where all I found was panic. 
And by panic, I mean Pan, the half man, half goat embodiment of panic out of Greek mythology, frying up what appeared to be an egg, cheese & grass omelette.
"Mornin'" he said, with a decidedly cheery Geordie accent.
I grunted an approximation of a reply as I opened the pantry.
I was only dimly aware of the ogre snarling at me from his cramped perch on the top shelf as I reached for the wheat puffs.
I only partially comprehended pulling a three-headed python out of the box before getting to the actual cereal and attributed the hollowed out skull as merely a result of no-one having done the dishes the night before, which- in my defense- wasn't that unusual.
Before I could even pour the milk, Dad, firing wildly at an attacking flock of what appeared to be pterodactyls with a Standard, Federation Issue Phaser, burst into the kitchen.
"Come on, Nathaniel," he yelled at me, narrowly avoiding a set of razor-sharp talons, "Get showered, get dressed and get going!"
"Breakfast?"I mumbled questioningly.
"There's no time!"
Muttering darkly to myself, I went back to retrieve a change of clothes from the steamy, overgrown jungle that had spontaneously sprouted out of my cupboard.
On the way to the bathroom, I glanced into my youngest sister's room and saw her taking a blowtorch to Cthulhu, or similarly tentacled monstrosity, while Mum looked on with a sense of pride, satisfaction and what appeared to be a ten foot Cyclops in a headlock under each arm.
It wasn't until getting into the shower before I finally became aware of what was going on. Instead of being met with the usual stream of water, the tiles gave way beneath me when I turned on the taps and I fell through the floor. Flaying my arms, I managed to grab to grab onto the shower [cord?] which unhooked itself from it's fixture, but miraculously stayed connected to the wall.
So there I was, just hanging in the wind. Looking down, I didn't see the dark, bottomless plunge to the bowels of the earth I was expecting, rather, a birds eye view of my neighborhood, some several thousand kilometers up.
There were even a few blimps circling down below me. As enjoyable as sensation of the breeze across my nether regions was, I wasn't keen on hanging around there ( pun intended.) With a burst of fear-induced strength, I managed to perform the most athletic feat in my life and hauled myself up the [cord?], then - like the great Russian Gymnast that I am- scrabbled up and over onto solid ground.
After catching my breath, contenting myself to make do with a liberal application of deodorant and getting dressed, I went back out to the kitchen. Dad was throwing the pterodactyls outside on the compost heap. Pan was seated at the table with his omelette, a glass of my coffee/chicory mix and the morning paper.
"Dad, what's going on?"
"You've got a dental appointment at 9:00," he explained.
"What about everything else?" I asked. "The Ancient One in Tionne's room? The giant drop in the shower? How about the goat-man scabbing the food?"
"What, like you do?"
"I'm related," I retorted, "It's totally different. But why is everything going kooky?"
"Because we should have left 5 minutes ago," Dad says.
"You overslept and now everything's going awry, reality itself is deteriorating and if we don't fix it, the entire universe will implode."
Sheesh, and I thought *I* was melodramatic.
Breakfast forgotten, we head out to the car. 
Dad goes first, taking on the hissing, lamprey-mouthed vines surrounding our Getz, with a  twirling machete. 
Me? I hang back on the verandah, putting my shoes on. Plants are really more Dad's thing.
When enough of the mutant grass had been cut back, I ran to the car as Dad throws it into gear. 
No sooner had we pulled out of the drive-way, but the car shuddered as we hit something. 
I looked out the rear window and saw a dozen skeleton pirates advancing on the car, with another lot rising from the bitumen before us.
"Hang on," said Dad, getting ready to ram them.