I've got dreams, dreams to remember

I used to know this guy named Marcus in Springfield (not to be confused with the Marcus I know here in Tulsa), and the other night I had a dream about him. I never thought he was the shiniest apple in the barrel, if you know what I mean, but I also never thought he was a complete idiot. Apparently my subconscious thinks differently.

So in this dream he's up on a hill shooting a bazooka at cars on the highway. Which isn't as action-packed as you might think, because he wasn't firing explosive shells - he was firing cans of Vienna Sausages. Apparently he was all distraught because he had just found out that Vienna Sausages didn't actually come from Vienna. Go figure. Gary and I and some other few of the old skool Springfield crew were there, so since we knew him the cops gave us a chance to go up the hill and try to talk him down before they went in with their tear gas grenades and their guns blazing and all that good stuff.

Well, we go up and talk to him, and he's a mess. We say some soothing things, he says some tearful things, we say some more soothing things, yadda yadda yadda. Finally we get him calmed down to the point where he's willing to come back down the hill with us, and he drops his sausage bazooka and says "I just don't know why the world can't make sense. I mean, next you guys are going to tell me that Spam doesn't come from Spanimals."

"Er... um..." we stammer, trying to think of how to defuse this potential mess, but it's too late. He sees the truth in our eyes.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he screams, fresh tears streaking down his soot-stained face. Then he runs off bawling at the top of his lungs - and that's when I woke up. It's a weird feeling to wake up laughing your ass off. ^_^