Toto. If We're Not in Kansas Anymore, Where Are we?

The land was flat.
It's makeup was - mostly - corn based.
Basically, You could see Topeka from where we were standing. It was just impossibly far.

The tornado displaced us next to a Runza. We should have been excited except we already had one in Kansas. Regardless, the dog needed to eat something.
As we sashayed ourselves into the restaurant, we were quickly displaced again by a rumbling and roaring of - not a lion- but a swath of drunk frat good ol' boys intensely focused on the Football game displayed on beat up old Toshibas above the takeout menus. Toto became confused with all the commotion and decided to bark along with the rest of these pesky teenagers.

As the time approached to order my lunch, a weird noise came across my ears.
Silence.
Toto wasn't barking anymore.
"Hey, Dorothy! Go back to Iowa!!!"
Apparently none of these Cornheads were Film Majors.
But they did have Toto spray painted Red and White. 

I waltzed over to one of the Herbie Husker motherfuckers and made a swift sidekick straight to the goods. Causing a gold rush of drunk kids to rage on the Runza shop.
I gracefully grabbed the confused Toto and got the hell outta dodge. While I was grabbing the next tornado vortex outta there - not caring where it dropped me off next - I vowed that even if I were deposited into the bowels of Hell, it would sure be better than Lincoln, Nebraska.