o'dreamy

Last night, around midnight, Larry started mewing in his sleep.

Mmmeehh-eh. Mmeeh-eh. 


He swatted the air with his hands.

Mmmeehh-eh. Mmeeh-eh.

I gave his forehead a few light taps.

He started to scream.

"Lare! WAKE UP!" I shook him until he opened his eyes. "What on earth were you dreaming?"

His response was so hilariously lucid and enthusiastic, I wrote the whole thing down, so I wouldn't forget.

"I was a member of a university crew that was stranded on an island" he said. "We were graduate students. On an expedition. And we had to carry supplies to another group who'd been lost. It was the dark of night when we left our compound. And monsters kept jumping out at us at every turn. It was so scary! 

They were Yeti. 

And the Fonz and Pinky Tuscadero were there!

And the Fonz was carrying a gun! He wanted to get on the back of our truck to kill our driver. And the driver kept saying, 'NO, NO! Don't let him on the truck! Are you crazy?' 

But it was the Fonz. So I helped him up. 

And when we stopped at a convenience store, there was a picture of the real killer. The killer who tried to kill the Fonz! And it was not the driver of our truck! 

So the Fonz, he felt satisfied with that."

He paused for breath before continuing:

"And all of this ... all of this was happening somewhere off the coast of South America."

"Wow."

"Do you know how I know that it was South America?"

"How?"

"The antelopes. They were all speaking Spanish."