I had a crazy dream last night. Another one with a very cinematic feel - dark, intense colors, like an oil painting. In a house with lots of dark wood, there was an infestation of evil insects. They most closely resembled praying mantises, and they were strong enough to push aside the manhole cover in the floor and climb out. We, as audience members, know this, so when we see the manhole cover start to lift up, we are expecting the little beast that crawls out.
The exterminator is there, ready to spray poison down the hole. But before he can do that, the bug grows taller and taller until its head hits the ceiling. The exterminator immediately abandons his poisoning strategy and transforms himself into a terrier. He charges the 10-foot praying mantis and sinks his little teeth into its calf. The insect, suddenly aware that it has an audience, transforms itself into Santa Claus - a shameless attempt to appear to be the victim rather than an evil invader. The exterminator-terrier is still clamped on for dear life.
I stumble awake, not fooled by the bug's shenanigans but vaguely concerned that other people who walk in on this dream won't understand what's really going on.
And then I had a dream that J.J. was wearing my warm red socks on his arms.
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