Flyin' Elvis eyed the tundra coast from the deck of the Celtic Galley. He knew something was definitely going on, as he had never seen such an armada. Four Galleys and (counting himself) eight Gallic Swordsmen. He was curious about his shipmate Morpheus - the guy had one more stripe than everybody else in the task force. In an attempt to break the ice, he asked Morpheus if he was the leader of the group.
"Oh no, I'm not in charge." replied Morpheus.
"If you're not in charge, then how'd you get the extra stripe?" Asked Flyin' Elvis.
"I got it in a training program called whack-a-barb." replied Morpheus.
"A training program?" Flyin' Elvis was curious. "What's that?"
"Would you like to know the secret of this world?" Asked Morpheus, holding the younger warrior's gaze with an intense, knowing look.
"...um...okay...I guess." Flyin' Elvis was unsure.
"None of this is real." Flyin' Elvis gasped. "Though we think the year is 230 BC, how do we know it is before
anything?!" Morpheus paused to let the thought sink in. "For all we know, the actual year is in the early twenty-first century."
"How do you know all this?" Flyin' Elvis asked, starting to question everything he had ever been taught.
"I have a cousin who saw things that are not of this world at the Doughbolt Factory explosion..." Morpheus paused. "He is convinced that this entire world is a computer program, and that none of us actually exist."
"R...rrr...really?" replied Flyin' Elvis...now scared more by Morpheus than by the foreign shore before him.
Morpheus held out his clenched hands. Turning his fist upward and opening them, he revealed a red object in his right hand, and a blue one in his left. "Do you want to see how deep the rabbit hole goes?" Morpheus continued... "The Red one will reveal the truth to you. The blue one will take you back to life as you have known it."
Facing the foreign shore (and realizing that "life as you know it" meant "hitting the beach at sunrise") Flyin' Elvis tentatively took the red pill, and swallowed it.
After a few moments, nothing happened. Not one blasted thing.
"What the...?!?!?!!"
Before Flyin' Elvis could finish his expletive, Morpheus cut in:
"Gotcha!" exclaimed Morpheus. "Dear Meleet! You are so gullible. If you don't start paying attention, some Persian hag is going to poke your hiney with a knitting needle, and you will bleed to death boy." Morpheus was belly-laughing now. "This is the only world there is. It was created by Meleet. We're going to war. And that, my boy, is all you need to know."