**** DISCLAIMER: THE FOLLOWING DREAM WAS JUST THAT – A DREAM. IT DOES NOT REFLECT MY VIEWS ON SEXUALITY, SESAME STREET OR JUST ABOUT ANYTHING (except possibly the dangers of television). FOR THE RECORD MY SINGLE TRUE HERO IS MAHATMA GANDHI.
I present the dream here just as I had it. You could call it evidence of what deadline pressure & the resulting insomnia can do, even to the gentlest of souls. ****
Last night’s dream:
I turn on a big television (intending to watch Star Wars I think) and there is Grover from Sesame Street, but wearing a sombrero and holding a machine gun. He looks into the camera and says, quite amiably: 'Saludos, amigos! I am Emiliano Zapata, the only Mexican revolutionary to marry a fellow soldier. Oh, here he is now!'
Enter Kermit. Grover, hysterical with joy, begins to hug him and make kissy-kissy sounds. Then things start getting weird.
KERMIT: Grover, sheesh.
GROVER: Not Grover--Zapata! I missed you! I missed you! (This part may have been in Spanish).
KERMIT: OK, enough. People are watching.
GROVER: I missed you! Drop your pants!
KERMIT: WHAT? No!
GROVER: Drop your pants! Drop your pants!
KERMIT: Grover, get off me! I think you need to see a doctor! Let go!
They fight. Grover is thrusting with his pelvis. Finally Kermit breaks away and stalks offscreen.
GROVER: AH HAAA HAAA HAAA HAAAA!
He fires the machine gun. The camera pans left and Kermit is being blown to fluffy green smithereens. Grover is very, very thorough, and still howling with deranged laughter, and there is the sound too of innocent bystanders crying out as smoke fills the air. When the camera pans back he is in extreme close-up, still firing, and then he swivels triumphantly and points the gun into the camera and fires again, and the glass of the TV breaks.
Grover is then able to fire into the room where I sit watching. I don't know how I escape that room alive but I am pinned down in the next by the gunfire, which destroys my windows and the turtle tank. The firing stops but when I peak around the corner the TV is hobbling forward, like R2D2 with restraining bolts, and Grover's face is still on the broken screen. Someone whispers that he's reloading. I can't move, suddenly, and realize that it's because I too am a muppet and whoever was operating my wires has dropped me and fled. Then I wake up screaming.
**** SEE DISCLAIMER ABOVE ****
3 comments:
That is an AWESOME dream.
I'm kinda jealous. Last night I had the old I'm-back-in-school-and-can't-find-my-class-even-though-I-graduated-a-decade-ago dream.
Your night was far more interesting.
Lucky.
Oh, I have lots of those school-hasn't-freed-me-from-its-steel-jaws yet kind of dreams. Both dull and frightening, pathetic and terribly stressful.... Must say I didn't feel too lucky after the Grover massacre, though. Just worried about my mental health. :)
This is why the Muppets and Quentin Tarantino don't do collaborations. JK
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