I was in the Simpson's house, in their living room, I was still real and they were still animated. Bart was talking to Homer, about what I cant recall, an instead of his zig zag trademark hair cut he had a strange almost morrisey like quiff. This was the last straw "What the fuck has happened to this show!?" I exploded. "You guys made me cry with laughter and now you make me want to cry with shame." I choked back tears as i croaked out the words. Marge looked at me ashamed but understandingly.
My alarm went off and as I awoke I felt both sad yet vindicated. I hit the snooze button.
I was now in some kind of virtual reality scenario where facebook meets the sims from a FPS point of view. Much how I imagine Second Life must be. I was in a cafeteria and all my friends from my final year in high school were there having an organised breakfast. I knew inside that I hadnt been invited and it made me feel pretty pissed off. I realised I could control the environment to a very low scale, enough for me to conjur a baseball bat in my right hand. I systematically worked my way round the tables absolutely plowing the bat into the plates of each of my former class mates. They reeled in horror and shouted at me to stop but they had no control over the program as I did. My old friend, John Colreavy, came running up to me begging for sanity. Behind my scrambled egg splattered manic smile a wave of 'what the fuck are you doing?' washed over me and I took stock of the carnage I had reaped. This kind of behaviour may have explained why I wasn't invited in the first place.
Once again the alarm kicked off and I headed to the shower chuckling to myself.
Hoody was just in my work saying he he had night terrors last night where he lay paralysed as i stood over him with a manic grin. After he left I wished I had asked him if I had bacon in my hair.
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