Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream!

What kind of evil asshole would name a pair of cuddly baby white tigers "Ben Wa" and "Taboo?" That's right. MY kind of evil asshole.

Also, Goodbye Zoloft, goodbye tremor, hello Prozac!

Last night I had one of those dreams where I'm being chased by assassins with axes. Axes! They cornered me and I couldn't find a weapon to hold them off. Just a car antenna, which I yanked free and found to be utterly useless. They closed in to chop me to death, and the nightmare panic started to take over. I realized that it was too late to escape, that I was REALLY going to die, and it was going to hurt. Just before the slaughter began, I realized: Fuck that. This is a dream and I make the rules, so starting right now I am pulling rank. I regret to inform you that I will not be experiencing the unpleasantness and horror of being murdered by ax-wielding assassins at this time. Instead, I will know kung fu, and my attackers will suddenly suck ass at fighting.

And that's how it came to pass that I killed the shit out of all four of them armed with only a ripped-off car antenna.

After the massacre, I led my KICKIN' RAD NEW FRIENDS the Straw Hat pirates to safety on a gorgeous tropical beach and tried explaining my epiphany to them. I told them how I had realized earlier that I was dreaming. I told them none of this was really happening.

They just looked at me in total confusion and tried to make awkward small talk to change the subject. I realized that, because they were figments, they had no fucking clue what I was even talking about and it might even be making them feel uncomfortable to discuss the subject. So I quit bashing my fist into the poor dented fourth wall, and curled up to sleep next to my nakama on warm white beach sand. The wind was warm and carried the sound of the waves to the beach and we watched the full moon rise in an indigo sky from under our temporary canopy tent. It was wonderful.

Then I woke up with a dog's butt in my face.