Help! I've been laminated!

Help! I've been laminated!
It was a bad trip. While my roommate felt he was made of ether exploring cosmic rifts of the psyche, I felt two-dimensional and plastic.
I was in no state to consider molecular structures or malleability -- but Gumby came to guide me on my trip. "Consider the fridge magnets" he suggested, as mushroom people
exploded into a neon whirling dervishes. Gumby's face melted into a green fire hydrant. I came unglued. "I'm freaking out maaaan. Your face just melted...bad acid." I clawed Gumby
with my front hooves, then gurgled and sputtered as we both melted to notghingussrrzz. Everything went black. Art Clokey scratched his stubbled chin in though, dreading his next
big idea. The last one sure fizzled quickly. Suddenly, inspiration hit him like a ton of bricks. That trumpet sitting in his bedroom beckoned to him invitingly. Come play a
Plastic one which sounds just as good to please grandma.
But Hedy saw how Grandma struggled to make ends meet every week, so she splurged on a solid oak one, too. Grandma was happier than
a crone to have two whole coffins on standby. She would try a different one of them each night, alternating between the oak and the pine. Once, she gave quite a fright to a burglar
who were hiding in the near bushes, he was urinating just at the moment. Hey! this is my bush you idiot, Go out of here! She just sigh and went away in her quest of finding a bush.

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