Here is a pink pyramid.

If you are standing at the bottom, looking up at the dramatic form of it all, you might think something like, “Well now, this is interesting.”

Perhaps you would then begin to ascend what you believe to be stairs before you. As you climb the stairs, however, you notice that they do not rise straight ahead of you, as normal stairways do, but that they shift at an angle. You find it unnerving and disorienting. You begin to puzzle over the experience. “That's odd,” you think, “stairs shouldn't behave this way. Did I unknowingly imbibe some type of psychoactive drug?” You then make a promise to yourself that you will change your promiscuous, inattentive dining habits with unsavory folks.

“Well,” you continue, “maybe this is actually a work of compelling architecture, which encourages me to really anticipate what amazing item awaits me at the peak of this twirling staircase. Certainly this was created to help cleanse my cognitive palate, so that I can fully appreciate the treasure which must be held atop the apex.”

You soon reach the top—after all, it's not that high, and if you truly couldn't see the top from the bottom, I would recommend that you have your vision checked by an ophthalmological professional in the near future—yet you find nothing but the tiny, pointed top of the pyramid. You glance around the dark void around you, uttering to yourself, “Is that it, then?”

“That's it!” replies a voice.

“Excuse me?” you question the seemingly empty space around you.

“Oh, sorry. I'm down here,” says the voice. It is the tiny top of the pyramid speaking to you. “I just wanted to thank you for taking the time to ascend my pink prismatic spiral pyramid.”

“Ah. All right, then. You're welcome.”

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