The duo stepped outside, moving through a minefield of slumber. The sidewalk was littered with people in mid-snooze. A jogger was curled up in a flowerbed; a businessman was face-down on his briefcase.
The effect was instantaneous. Thousands of people sat bolt upright, eyes wide with the panicked realization that they were "late for work." The fog lifted as the collective energy of a thousand frantic morning routines surged through the air. [S2E3] The Yawn of the Dead Adventure
The sound ripped through the quiet. Mrs. Gable blinked, startled, her yawn cut short. “Go! Run!” Ben shouted. The duo stepped outside, moving through a minefield
They sprinted the final block to the tower, their lungs burning, fighting the heavy-limbed sensation of a 3:00 PM crash. They scrambled up the ladder, Sam fending off a particularly sleepy golden retriever that tried to nuzzle his ankles. The effect was instantaneous
And together, the heroes of the Yawn of the Dead finally went to sleep.
“Yeah,” Ben replied, sliding down to sit on the floor. “Now... five more minutes?” “Five more minutes.”
“Don't listen to it,” Sam warned, his eyelids drooping. “Think about... taxes! Or stubbing your toe! Stay sharp!”