APRIL FOOLS 2015: The spontaneous Declaration of the singular Dimension-State of Morbo

To my fellow Pit Crew, and to the outsiders which now belong to a separate and parallel reality unto which we are no longer subject,

It is with a unique anticipation that I bring this announcement. Our fair planet, and its wonderful Pit Stop, are now slightly over three "years" old. I quote "years," as in relation to recent changes, years are now but a subjective distance from the false world which we no longer belong to.

Surely, in such as many years, we have grown beyond our capacity to function in the intergalactic confederation with peace and comfort. It is with such sentiments that I announce our dear planet's formal secession from reality.

From now on, we do not exist on the same plane as the Minor Majority beyond this fledgling realm. Rather, our lives are parallel, or rather perpendicular, or, if you would like to be even more punctilious, adjacent rays which together form an obtuse angle, representative of our degrees of separation from the world which we have left behind.

From now on, we shall not heed time, but for our own conventions. Instead, we shall measure our distance in the progress of life in three tiers: first, the status of the sky; next, the color of the day; and last, the cycle of the moons. Hours and minutes know no equivalent in this province, or rather dimension-state. We find that such denominations of time, to use meatspace terms, is "missing the forest for the trees."

On the subject of trees, our government shall be a ten-branched botanocracy, ruled in each branch by an Elder Tree. Each of these Elder Trees shall be supported by Secretary Roots, who will take care of such trivial things as Thinking, Decision-Making, and War-Declaring (which operates on a different plane than Decision-Making and Thinking). Meanwhile, the Elder Trees shall each support each other with their branches, creating what I believe to be an efficient checks-and-balances system; checking for progress, and balancing that progress so as to not result in any substantial change.

At the center of this system, completely autonomous and separate from the Elder Trees and their Branches, is the President Bush (not to be confused with the meatspace former United States President, but rather, a President who is a shrub). This President Bush shall take care of matters such as Public-Relations, Patriotism, and Re-Election-Seeking. These are very important activities that require special attention from our leader. Each Bush will last for ten-year terms, and is allowed ten terms total; when their ten terms are up, the Bush may invoke the Half-Life Clause, after which they can run for election until their Half-Lives are up. During that time, they may declare themselves more half-lives as often as they would like.

Our new motto is: "Treeeeeees! They are us!"

We encourage all citizens of this wonderful dimension-state to explore the nature of their non-reality thoroughly to discover the limitations and liberties unique to this realm. Thank you for your patience, and good luck!

Y'know if we want to be philosophical the Pit Stop was never on the same plane of meatspace as humans anyways.

Anarchy forever!!

*pulls out Red Matter Bomb*

About time Morbo joined Somnia in the other plane

which are we in now? I know not the dream plane or i'd recognize it

We are now in a dimension entirely our own, spontaneously generated upon our arrival—and, paradoxically, we could not have arrived here if it did not exist before we came.

But enough of that, let us enjoy the wondrous freedoms that come with dissociating ourselves from the terrible world that comes before the void! Hallelujah, and a swell Independence Day to you all!

Feel free to get some snacks from the snack bar, or buy some of the kitsch ornaments on display with the strange, flashing lights which you should not investigate. They will not harm you.

*investigates the flashing lights*

I have seen...everything.

*sets off more flashing lights as the bomb is activated*

TRUTH WILL YOU STOP BLOWING EVERYTHING UP

I'm a terrorist, it's my job.

*the bomb goes horribly wrong and huge amounts of confetti goes everywhere*

I got on romch for blowing up Mexico, I'm getting on you for being a terrorist.

*pelts Lief with raw eggs*

Ow D:

*makes an omelette*

I want truth to stop blowing up stuff, the governement may no longer be watching us, but still...

I've hardly blown anything up :I