A; 769 Bunker Street {yesterday}
[Sealand drags himself into the house with none of his usual energy. His throat is sore and he's starving and he never wants to sing another Christmas song again. He's not sure he even wants to hear one.

The first thing he does, naturally, is start eating as if he were trying to consume the entire contents of the fridge.]

B; phone {today}
Hey, isn't there something wrong? I mean yeah the lights flicker sometimes and I think Sealand's seagull just disappeared again, but there's something not here that should be, right?

[Sealand's voice sounds incredibly shaky, a far cry from his usual bouncy demeanor.]

Um, I think something's wrong with the drones, 'cause Lilly got droned but she still had all her stuff and she tried to kill me and--

[He pauses abruptly and takes another shaky breath.]

So I think everyone should, um, watch out for drones. And if they have magic or something then you should be really careful or they'll electrocute the television. And other things.

U-um, Caesar, Miakis, e-everyone--um, are you guys okay?

[Good morning, Mayfield! It's 10 am on a bright summery Saturday morning. Do you know where your micronations are?

On the roof, of course! The roof of Sealand's house, specifically. A crude stage has been constructed, leading from the top of the house to Sealand's backyard tree house. But what's more important is Sealand has a megaphone, painted red. And they're standing behind the most beautiful new flag that Wy has drawn for them.]

[Yes, this is a picture of a Communist dolphin holding a hammer.]

[Yup. It's gonna be one of those days. There is also a phone off the hook, so Sealand's voice is broadcast over the phone lines as well!]

People of Mayfield, throw down the shackles of the Capitalist Pig Bourgeoisie! They have stepped on the backs of the proletariat for too long!

[It's doubtful Sealand really knows about much of what he's talking about. But Wy has still drawn helpful pictures to illustrate his points! Here is a capitalist pig stepping on the proletariat!]

It is the hard work of the proletariat that allows the bourgeoisie to sit around doing nothing and reaping rewards anyway! It is the hard working nations which are being denied equal rights! It is the--

[And Wy takes the megaphone from him, to his muffled but ultimately useless protest:] They want to destroy our driveways!

[There is a small fight over the megaphone, which is covered, but the pair struggle over the megaphone rights until Sealand snatches it back and Wy goes back to her pictures.]

Right! Driveways! Should the hard working nation be denied the right to a driveway when the bourgeoisie, who did nothing to earn it, have as many as they want? Long, wasteful driveways that they won't use! All working nations should have a driveway that matches their need, not the whims of capitalist pigs!

Look at this!

[He holds up one of Wy's pictures. Don't worry, they're getting thrown, too, so if you're on the lawn, you can also see! Pass them around for everyone!]

This useless--

[He leans away from the megaphone. He appears to be asking her what the drawing is of. Wy looks exasperated.]

Bushland! The bushland of the bourgeoisie! What good is this to the hard-working nation? No good at all! The proletariat needs a driveway, and it is denied them!

So we call for revolution! All hard-working nations should have equal representation! All hard-working nations should have equal acknowledgment! And every hard working nation should have an equal amount of driveways!

((OOC: Wy or Sealand (or both!) may reply! Tell us if you want someone specific!))

A; Phone
Everyone's acting really strange today! But something does feel weird, even if this is Mayfield and Mayfield's really swell! But does anyone know what's going on?

B; park, evening
[Peter has acquired fireworks! Who knows where he got them. They're just little ones, sparklers and that sort of thing, but he seems delighted. After all, what better day to have some than the Fourth of July?

He pauses, though, before lighting a sparkler. Something's wrong, definitely. He's felt it all day...]

A: Phone
My eyes hurt. Why're everyone's eyes hurting?

[Bonus action for anyone in 769 Bunker Street, Sealand is trying repeatedly to wash his eyes out with water.]

B: park
[Sealand's wandering around the park, though away from any of those moving statues. He saw one of them outside his window while he was at home so he didn't want to stay there, but they seemed to be everywhere now.

He stares down at his feet--and yowls like a cat when he sees them abruptly turn to stone. He falls over a second later.]

C: Outside 769 Bunker
[He'd come crawling home--all but literally, he's so tired. There's a thing in his head that's telling him it'd be fine to just lay down on the lawn. He'd spent his entire walk home arguing with it, but he doesn't really have the energy to do anything else.

Sealand collapses on the ground outside and cries, though to him it looks like there's sand coming out of his eyes.]

D: Outside 769 Bunker

[Now there's a nice dead body outside to go with all those angels.]

[Sealand's Valentines Day was weird, and the next day is--still pretty weird. He's got that weird fever he had yesterday, and for some reason he's had the urge to go to Wy's house. It takes him a bit less time to figure out where it was this time (they really need to get on building that tunnel), and he's peeking through the back door to see if she's around, having found it via olive trees again. He could knock, but he's not sure he wants to.]

Hey, Wy! Hey, uh, are you in there?

[Clearly he is the smoothest twelve-year-old.]