dreams and mountain dew

I keep having dreams involving guitars. Me playing the guitar, random security guards/thugs playing guitars, guitar tablature, and then I dreamt of the mandolin.
That one security guard/thug had nice hair.
*shrug* Whatever, it's better than dreaming of chickens. And scary homicidal people...
"It's Miracle Whip! We're rich! Quick, re-name the chicken before it's too late!"
Yeah. Save your Miracle Whip, in the future it's really miraculous. Literally. And half the time the chicken was rubber. Oh, and High School Musical stuff is really rare.
I went to Walmart yesterday. That act alone is not incredible, but what happened there is. You see, there was a man shopping there. Let's call him Bob. Bob is allergic to aluminum. Well, he had a can of Mountain Dew. He poured it into a cup, thinking to circumvent this allergy. Enter Harry, the Walmart employee. Harry is a happy person, and very optimistic. Being very musical, he likes to dance. So Harry danced. Right there, for all to see, in the middle of aisle five. Bob was also in aisle five. He was just about to take the first delicious sip of his beloved Mountain Dew, when Harry appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and danced his most daring, devious, and all-around disconcerting move. He jostled Bob, and Bob's precious Mountain Dew... spilled! He stopped, overwhelmed by the agony of it all. What follows this turn of events is inexplicable, but one could only relate it to the sensation of having your dreams wrenched out of your hands with a jackhammer, dumped into a blender, and pureed until the only thing that was left was greyish-brown goo. Well, experiencing these feelings, Bob became desperate, and ran. He didn't get far. Bob slipped on the tragically spilled Mountain Dew, and slid into a wall of baby's nightgowns. This alone would not have led to much trauma, but behind the fateful wall of baby's nightgowns lay a rack of trampolines. Once Bob hit the baby's nightgowns, they ricocheted into the trampolines and fell on surprised Bob.

Then all the babies laughed.

But then they felt great remorse for having laughed at Bob in his tragedy. So they lifted the baby's nightgowns and freed Bob. To Bob's great delight, a small amount of his beloved Mountain Dew had remained in the cup he had so thoughtfully decided to hold on to through all of this. He gratefully sipped the cool liquid, relishing the feeling of it seeping down his throat. Suddenly, his throat tightened! Traces of aluminum still existed in the comforting beverage! He felt himself swelling, turning into a giant. He let out a tortured roar. Then.....nothing. His vision faded to black, and the Bob we knew was no more. But something else awoke in him. It was Tob. Little known to most at the time, Bob was schizophrenic. His alternate self blinked his swollen eyes, and looked around. Midgets were screaming and yelling. His hearing wavered, then closed to most of the chaotic noise. Often the high-pitched shrieks broke through to his large ears. An ambulance arrived, and in record time, for there had been an incident in the meat department, so the ambulance had already been on its way. You see, Tob thought he was a normal size, so when the paramedics shot him with the medicine to cure him of his abnormality, he panicked. Tob is very insecure, and didn't know why he was shrinking, nor why people were shooting at him with odd-looking darts. As his size stabilized, he was overwhelmed by the feeling of small stature. The degree of which he felt this feeling could only be compared to the feeling one gets when walking through a dark forest alone, tripping on a stone, falling into the dust, being stepped on by some extinct sauropod, and finding yourself dining with a colony of ants, or so you thought, for then they decide that you would make a delicious side dish to their famous bumblebee on a stick. Not only does it not make any sense, it is very disconcerting, especially to one as nervous as Tob. He shrieked in fear, and scampered to the garden section to hide.
To Be Continued....