Wendell Wags, Male, All-around Pervert

I ran my fingers around the frame of the mirror, admiring the simple, elegant design as well as the glass itself. Brushing my thumb against the glass, I was surprised to see the glass ripple outwards from where I touched it like the surface of a lake after skipping a rock. I was thinking how odd this seemed and was telling myself how I must be thinking things before the glass started pouring out of the frame. It looked like a T-2000 trying to envelop me. I didn't get far and was practically paralyzed from the moment the glass touched. It flowed over me soundlessly and all I knew was darkness and silence.

I don't know how long I was in that state, but the next thing I knew, I was definitely not in Kansas anymore, Toto.

I was barely over five and a half feet tall, significantly pudgy, mid thirties and a nearly shaved head. The glasses and muscle tone of cookie dough meant I wasn't the most confident or social people. I literally lived in someone's basement whenever I wasn't working a dead end, mind numbing inventory job. I was practically the definition of 'loser'. Needless to say, I did not get a lot (or any action)

The room I was in looked simple enough, with plain white walls and a purple carpet, but no windows at all to speak of. There were just two doors to my left and right. The left-hand door had the image of Leonardo da Vinci's Vetruvian man, and the other had what looked like an artist’s brush crossing a musical symbol all in the pupil of an eye.

The room’s furniture consisted of two, leather couches in the center with a plain, non-descript coffee table between them. It honestly looked like a riff off the casting couch porn videos I watched while jerking off at night. Turning around, I noticed the mirror I had just inherited set in the wall behind me.

"Hello, Master." an plain voice spoke from the room. I couldn't tell where it was coming from since nobody else was in the room but myself.

"Who's there? Why am I here? What's going on?!" I'll admit I was a little bit panicked at this point.

“You’re in the Studio. I can’t quite explain exactly what this place is to you in a way you can easily understand, the best I can do is tell you what it does. This is a place where you can create and modify a world of your own design.” the voice responded.

“Excuse me?” that didn't compute to me.

"It's as I stated." the voice continued with minimal inflection. It didn't sound male of female. "Any kind of world you can imagine or conceptualize, that worlsd will be able to be experienced by you as fully as the real world. You can alter anything you please at anytime."

“Where do you fit into all of this, though? Who are you?” I repeated. Since my mind was struggling a bit with what I was thinking the implications, or even reality, of the voice's words, I tried to find a handle on the moment.

“I’m the Studio. Or, at least I’m a part of the Studio that you can interact with. I can answer any questions you have, or even make changes at your request if you’d rather not take a hands-on approach. However, if you prefer the latter…” The door to the room with the artist’s brush, musical note and eye painted on it opened. I cautiously approached and peeked in.

There was a much larger room full of various creative tools. I immediately spotted an easel, a writing desk, a block of marble and a stool, even a variety of musical instruments. There was much more, enough that it was a bit overwhelming. I also spotted a gamer's battlestation with a half dozen screens and half as many keyboards set up.

“If you are the creative sort, you can use anything in this room to give inspiration or directly change the world you create, designing every last detail.” the voice explained.

“How would anyone have enough time to design every aspect of an entire world though?” I asked, disbelieving.

“This studio is timeless, you won’t age here, and time won’t pass here. For that matter, each world is temporally exclusive. This means that time will only pass if you are in that world. You could spend hundreds of years in any world you create and not age a second in your world, and visa versa. If you’re in the Studio, time won’t pass in either world.”

Well that was certainly helpful.

“But,” the voice continued, “if you prefer, you can just tell me what you want to change and I will do it for you more quickly, though it may not be exactly how you imagine it.”

I walked back into the lounge, for lack of better name, and looked at the door on the other side, with the body diagram on it. “And what’s in that room?” I asked,, though I could already hazard a guess.

“It’s a dressing room. You can alter any aspect of your appearance or attire in that room. I can help you with that when you’re ready. Though again, you can just tell me the change you want to make or if you are already in the world, simply visualize the changes you wish to happen to yourself, and it will take effect immediately.”

"OK, super weird." I stated. Parking my doughy keister down on one of the couches, I held my head in my hands for several minutes while I just focused on taking, slow, deep breaths and getting my heart rate back to normal. I briefly wondered if this was what a panic attack felt like. "Am I dead?"

"No, Master. You are not dead." the voice replied, as bland as ever.

"What kind of word's can I create? If I die in the fake world, do I die for real?" Maybe this was some kind of Matrix thing? No use playing around here if I was just going to off myself by behaving like a jackass.

"Anything you can imagine. The wold can even be altered actively while you are inhabiting it. Your will is the ultimate authority within The Studio. What you want to happen, happens. In addition, you cannot 'die' in any world or the studio. If you manage to lose consciousness in any world or are somehow rendered unable to function, the worst that would happen is you would wake up back here, just as you are. Completely unharmed."

I stood up and cracked my knuckles and rolled my head around, earning some 'pops' from my vertebrate realigning. "Alright, let's take this baby for a test drive."