The Bondage of Markiplier

Mark awoke in an upright position, his body incredibly stiff. He tried using his arms and legs but they would not budge from their splayed positions. Am I tied up, he thought to himself. Panic was beginning to crawl through his nerves. When he tried to turn his head to look at his binds, he found that he could not move his neck. He could only move his eyes. They revealed nothing but darkness but he could not feel a blindfold on his face. What is going on? He could hardly hear himself think over his own heartbeat and hard breathing. Possibilities swam through his head like hundreds of guppies in a glass tank.

Concentrate, Mark.

Whatever he was tied to, it was spongy and soft. Maybe if he pulled hard enough, he could break free. With every muscle, he pulled himself forward. There was a spongy  surface in front of him too but it was giving way through the force. The slab in front of him fell over, as did he. A flash of blue and tan against a white background caught his eyes before he slammed into the wood floor below him. He could no longer feel the spongy surface on his back yet his arms, legs, and neck were still stiff. However he found that he could wriggle enough to go forward. He had in fact been on a wooden riser and was crawling face-down onto the wooden floor about six inches beneath it. It would really hurt to get splinters in my face.

His left foot touched something sharp before it came off the riser. It nearly cut him. If I can turn myself around and angle myself properly, I might be able to cut my bonds on whatever my foot touched!

It seemed like hours had passed before Mark had reached the edge of the riser again although it had always been right next to him. It was so hard to move. Swinging his left side over the riser, he pulled his other side up. Success.

Below him lay a large metal blade with a wide handle. It's a sword! No wait, it's a giant knife? He stared at his reflection in the stainless steel. He had not been tied up at all. His disposition was much worse. He only had a moment to take in his square, whole-wheat reality before he was overtaken by the sudden and uncontrollable urge to become toast.