Stranger things

Last night I had a nightmare that an evil genius was drowning Charlize Theron in a Houdini box and I was the only one who could save her. My mission was to incapacitate her clone (for clarity's sake let's call her Charlize 2). As you can imagine, Charlize 2 was better trained, better equipped and better -- just better, better than me at everything.

Listen. I pride myself on my ability to make Hollandaise, but I'm guessing her Hollandaise could kick my Hollandaise's ass, and even a Hollandaise-fanatic who had been deprived of Hollandaise for years and years would choose to wait three more years to have her Hollandaise rather than:

a) to have a bowl of my Hollandaise two seconds ago.
b) win a million dollars.
c) invent Hollandaise.
d) all of the above.

She probably has better metaphors than me, too.

But you get the picture. There's no way I can beat Charlize 2.

Except...dream logic being what it is, I beat her! I make a balloon animal that somehow reminds her of a traumatic childhood event, and POOF, she's gone.

I throw Charlize 1 a super long and super wide straw (think Boba straw but longer) and she's able to breathe while I find a way to crack the glass box open.

What the fuck is that about? 

No comments:

Post a Comment