For the NG Orchestral Composition Contest. ​

If you haven't noticed with lots of my recent work, I love melodies that troll listeners into expecting something regular and then betraying them with something yucky or corny. I don't believe there's many music lovers who enjoy yuck and corn at the same time, so I do it as an attack against the predicatives I, and most others, fall prey to. My brain whispers to me that this is a spiritual successor to my even more violent Spoiled Princess tune: https://www.newgrounds.com/audio/listen/912325

So like how I did with that song, here's a long narrative setup to this piece to help you along if you don't have any imagination:

"Between two major points in your journey, you pass through grassy plains dotted with a few small towns that have odd infrastructure. It looks as if buildings suddenly evaporated from their foundations at random. You talk with the locals about these vanished buildings, who also tell you stories of other belongings of theirs randomly disappearing. Sensing your confusion at their calm respite over the matter, they suggest you 'visit Prankeith yourself' while pointing towards the same general vicinity.

Taking heed of their vague directions, you arrive at a barren plateau and spot a massive silhouette floating above the crest of the horizon. Upon closer inspection, you see that it's actually a hodgepodge of houses and towers bound together by miles of twine and hovering in the air via several billion balloons. You manage to get inside this fortress and discover that it's a whole other city, its residents dedicated to the mischievous mantra of Prankeith. He soon welcomes you personally and notes that he was banished from the next kingdom on your list of evil to vanquish.

Prankeith explains that his playspace is for any and every practical joke, especially on those you think are more fortunate than yourself. He has the power to throw up indestructible balloons from his stomach in quick succession, and keep a telekinetic connection to them once spat out. He demonstrates by comically hacking some at you like a machine gun and you can't help but laugh. He continues by describing the absolute joy he finds in attaching these balloons to other people's stuff while they aren't looking and watch it fall upwards into oblivion. It's clear he's also not against forcefully floating people to their doom. Naturally, he admits he's done so many times, a few simply out of boredom.

So, as an agent to everything good, you try talking Prankeith out of continuing this nefarious utopia, even after he recounts the pain he experienced in a severely classist society, and then the pain of subsequently being banished to the desolate plainlands. This obviously gets him enraged at you almost immediately, and you have no choice but to fight your way off of his haphazard playspace..."