"Welcome." The word was ominous and inviting. I hesitantly stepped onto the
elevator, looking the whole time like a startled rabbit. The elevator seemed
small and cramped compared to the gigantic lobby. A claustrophobic feeling came
over me as a gap toothed grin stared at me from the wall. I jumped, and realized
that it was simply the elevator operator. "What floor?" He asked, still grinning
like some sort of twisted cheshire cat.
    "42." I replied shortly, not wanting to talk to this guy any more that I had
to. For some reason I couldn't quite put my finger on, he gave me the creeps.
What was he doing here anyway? Weren't elevator operators obsolete? Well, if the
lobby was any indication, this wasn't any normal building. That should explain
it.
     Suddenly, the elevator jumped violently, knocking me to the floor.
"Hyperdrive." The operator said off-handedly, as if it was the most natural
thing
in the world. "First time?"
     I tried to answer, but then the world twisted around me. The elevator spun
one way and that, simply making things worse. Then the floor flipped, and I was
on the ceiling. The elevator operator smiled. His teeth gleamed a pearly white
in the mix of twirling colors. I felt like I was going to throw up, but my
stoumach twisted itself sround my intestines in a painful imitation of the
elevator's acrobatics.
    The wall and me were one. The wall grimaced in pain, my lungs too empty to
cry out. The elevator operator smiled. The wall spat me out. I landed on the
floor, looking up at the grinning elevator operator. "Yup. That definately was
your first time." He said in the same mocking, off-handed tone as before. "Floor
42."
    I stumbled though the open doors and collapsed in the stream beyond. The
water was cool and soothing. I closed my eyes, and promptly started to drown.
Couging and sputtering, I crawled to the bank. This was the weirdest building I
had ever visited. Hyperdrive? Streams? I lay on the bank exhausted, enjoying the
sensation of having all of my organs in their rightful places.
    The rug was warm. A foot connected with my ribs, causing me to wake from my
nap. I was in an office. On the back wall, the number 42 was engraved
elaborately. A man in a purple suit glared at me. "What are you doing on my
grass?" He asked menacingly.
    "Grass?" I asked, puzzled. "What grass?" I got to my feet quickly.
    "The grass you are standing on of course." The man responded so
matter-of-factly that I almost believed him.
    "I only see carpet..."
    The man sighed heavily, cutting me off. "What do you want. You have to have
come to floor 42 for a reason." I leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "Oh,
is that all? Was it worth ruining my grass?" I looked at him puzzled. He sighed
again. "Nevermind. Here. That should solve your problem. Now leave me, you
grass-killer!" I quickly made my way out the door and back into the lobby. The
elevator from hell seemed to have disappeared. smiling with relief at having
finally solved my problem: I was no longer stranded in this building, I ran to
the doors and outside...and into the elevator.
    "Welcome." The word was ominous and inviting.