The curator realizes he’s missing half of his brain, and falls over.

  Where did his brain go?

  The man with orange hair’s been waiting for several hours, and yet nobody’s arrived.

  “. . . I’m going to walk around, just so you’re aware!”

  He’s shouting so that the curator will know why he’s missing. The curator is, of course, in no state to hear what he’s saying.

  A peculiar figure, which would seem to be a bear, lurks around the museum, currently in the section housing the paintings. It stares at each painting before swiping at them, damaging them beyond repair.

  The man is currently in the area with The sculptures, admiring the craftsmanship of the sculpture titled “Angel of Death, Ricky”.

  “Why are half of these sculptures skeletons?”

  What seems like a bear, but is not a bear, moves to the door separating the sculptures and the paintings.

  The orange haired man opens it. He’s happy to see anything other than art pieces.

  “Oh, hello! Are you from the Orange? Do you hear that hissing sound too?”

  The thing that isn’t a bear swipes at him with its claws. They get stuck in the door, as the man closes it in front of him.

  Slightly muffled through the door, “That wasn’t very nice, I thought you were just going to send me a bill!”

  With a loud cracking sound, the bear-ish thing pulls the door straight out from the wall, taking parts of the surrounding wall with it. With one of its other sets of claws, it swipes at the man, and slices a finger off his hand as he tries to deflect them.

  Despite looking pale as a birch tree, the man is made of dirt. He’s not in as much pain as if it were an actual finger.

  “Ow. Well, Mr. Orange, while I have you, do you think Sherman Chex is a good name?”

  He seems to think the Not-Bear is a member of the Orange. It is not amused, and lunges at him with its jaw wide open. Unfortunately for it, the man jumps out of the way, causing it to slam into the wall and lose a few teeth.

  “I’m starting to think you’re not with the Orange. You seem more like a bear than a person.”

  The man rips the femur off one of the many skeleton sculptures, creating a sharp point on one side.

  “Wait, does the Orange hire bears?” He says while thrusting his improvised weapon at what he thinks is a bear.

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  The Not-Bear knocks the bone out of his hands and lunges at him again. He jumps out of the way, leaving it to slam into the wall. The hissing noise gets more obvious. Quickly, he flees into the room with the paintings.

  He attempts to open the orange door labelled “EXIT”, but it doesn’t move in the slightest. He rushes into another door which was absolutely always there. It leads into an orange room, where the body of the curator is found.

  “Sir, are you okay?”

  ...

  He lifts the curator’s body and carries him over his shoulder. He moves into the next room and places it in front of the door.

  “While I have you, do you think Sherman Chex is a good name for a human?”

  There are several cracking crunching sounds as the Not-Bear rips doors off hinges trying to find him. The hissing continues.

  “Hey, what’s that hissing sound? Is there a leak or something?”

  The bear-like thing prowls around the museum, knocking down whatever walls and doors it sees. If it were a bear, it would try to sniff out the man, but alas, it isn’t a bear.

  It knocks over the sculpture room, rips apart the painting room, and ends all calls in the telephone room. All the while, the hissing noises continue to get louder. It reaches an extraordinarily large room full of orange doors.

  It starts to destroy each of the doors, searching for anything that may be hidden. All the rumbling causes several of the doors to fall onto it. As it picks itself up, it sees the man from earlier wearing a set of purple clothes. It would make a loud roar if it were a bear, but as it isn’t, it makes a hissing noise.

  “Oh, hello Not-Bear! Are you here to take my brain?”

  The man, with his fancy new purple shirt and pants, hops onto one of the doors and smashes one of the lights. He pulls the wires inside down and starts to mess with them haphazardly.

  “Mr. Bear! Could you please tell me what that hissing noise coming from the walls and floor is? I think it’s a gas leak!”

  The Not-Bear lunges at him, trying to bite him again, but he kicks a door open into its face.

  “Good thing you were breaking the walls apart earlier! Thank you! And how you made sure nothing could enter or exit the building was wonderful as well!”

  After recovering from hitting the door, the Not-Bear begins to raise its arm for a swipe.

  “There’s just no way the Orange don’t get here after, what, seventeen hours?”

  Finally, he gets what he’s been hoping for. An electric spark ignites the gas which had filled nearly the entire building, creating an explosion that demolishes nearly everything inside.

  It no longer looks like a bear, as it’s been burnt to a crisp. The man laughs. He’s fine, because he’s made of really explosion-resistant dirt. But when a building has a fire, what comes quickly after? The sprinklers turn on, in an attempt to drown out the fire, flooding the building with water.

  The man begins to laugh.

  “Oh man, I’d finally made my decision too.”

  As the water touches him, he begins to lose pieces of himself, melting away. He begins to hear voices running around the building. With the Not-Bear gone, the doors have opened and the Orange have made their way inside.

  “Sherman Chex was a great name.”

  Pieces of him continue to wash away as the water falls. He’s lost his head, so he can neither see nor hear. As people finally rush into the room, all they see is a pool of mud, with a piece of glass in the center.

  Sherman Chex wakes up 3 hours later in what seems to be an orange garden. The Orange needs him alive.