I'm in a night club and we're all sitting around, waiting for Deb's act to start. She explains to me that she is going to get me a pink sweater like hers with one big black dot, but first she has to get one with two black dots for my niece. Then she goes on to tell me the Pony Club store in Savannah closed and she just cleaned up on stuff to give my niece for Christmas.
First, there was some kind of ecological disaster and we all had to be airlifted out. I had to hang onto the ladder and hold my breath through the poison gas cloud.
Upon my arrival at the relocation desk, I waited while a group of travel agents finished the arrangements for a tour for a high school reunion. Finally, she hands me my relocation package, which includes a brochure about the nightlife in the area where I will be settled. It has a club that features "shovel dancing" and has a picture of a middle-aged man in full motorcycle leathers and assless chaps dancing with a woman in a mumu. I know I will be fine.
Finally, I am coming home from Thanksgiving Dinner and remark this was the worst one yet [this is sadly, not dream fiction, I have had some wretched Thanksgiving dinners]. I stumble onto Erica and a group of her friends just as they are setting the table for their own Thanksgiving. I ask if I can help and find myself sitting at the end between Erica and Christopher Walken. I go to check the messages on my phone and when I come back, there is a pot of vegetables in front of me. I ask Erica if there are fiddleheads in there and she says, yes and a lot more. I look in and there are indeed fiddleheads plus a bunch of small vegetables shaped like skulls and skeletons. Christopher Walken looks at me and asks, "are you acquainted with the Flintstones?"
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