When pigs fly. Last night, I dreamed a group of young ruffians hurled a pig at me...
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... with a slingshot. This was in a ritzy restaurant, and before the pig, they used all manner of ammunition: flowers, a drink, cutlery, and a soccer ball. After the pig, one of the hooligans climbed aboard the slingshot and had himself springloaded toward my table. Boy, was I steamed.
Anyone else having kooky dreams out there in MeCha Land?