George Clooney Has A Dream

Honey!

Honey, sweetheart, wake up!

What do you mean “who is it” it’s your boyfriend and lover George Clooney.

You idiot.

I just had the most incredible dream and I gotta tell you about it!

It started with me as a suave con-artist who works with ten other con-artists to rob a casino in Las Vegas. But twist!; I’m also trying to win back my ex-wife, who has left me for the casino owner.

What? No, it wasn’t you honey. Don’t worry, I will never marry you.

Anyway, the ten con-artists and myself, all eleven of us, we pull of the heist of the century and it involves trickery of the most wicked kind, where you like you watch us unfold our brilliant plan and you’re like “oooohhhhh you dog you George, you crazy.”

But then, as we were making our final escape out of the casino, I fell through a door in the casino slots and I found myself floating in outer space, tethered to a space station. It was glorious feeling weightless and it was crazy to look down and see the blue Earth below me.

And there was another astronaut there who looked a lot like my ex-wife in the first thing.

Again, honey, definitely and completely not you, for sure.

The money from the casino was in a bag, floating past me, and I reached out for it, but just then, the space station flew apart! It was destroyed by something flying past me and I looked up to see it was the Batplane!

Yes, from Batman, obviously.

And the cockpit opened up and it was Robin looking fantastic in his tights. He was strong and seemed to tower over me.

With his

strength.

So tight.

Very tight.

What? Yeah, I guess he WAS a homo sapien. We ALL are dummy.  No, shut up, don’t ever interrupt me again.

And Robin said “Quick Batman! To the Batcave!”

And he was talking to ME! I WAS BATMAN!!

What a wild thought, huh.

My nipples are like crazy hard right now, I don’t know why.

Anyway, I float over to the Batplane and we fly back down to Earth, but before we land, we get caught in cloud cover and there was a lot of turbulence. It was definitely a storm. Like a crazy good storm.

Some might even say

it was

the Bestest Storm.

We tried our hardest to land, but we crashed into the water. Waves washed over me. I could just barely breath and woke up in a hospital bed. I looked up at the doctor and he said,

“You’re going to be just fine, Mr. Clooney.”

And then I said,

“Thank you, Doctor…

CLOONEY”

Yeah. Holy shit.

I was the doctor. I was the doctor AND the patient. What the fuck, right.

Honey, I said I wAS THE DOCTOR AND THE PATIENT.

So then I was the doctor and I was wandering around the hospital, seeing a bunch of signs for “E.R.” which I can only assume means “Eagles Roosting.”

What? Because I always dream about eagles roosting, honey. It’s part of my meditation. Haha, it’s ok that you’re so stupid, honey. Remember that I will never ever marry you.

I turned to another hospital bed and I saw my dying, comafied wife. It was brutally sad. Then I saw my young daughter, staring at me. It was clear that we weren’t personally connected.

And neither of them were connected to you at all, honey.

Then I started concentrating really hard, like I could bring my wife back to the real world with my mind. But that didn’t work. She just slowly turned into a goat. I was just a man, staring at a goat.

I’m not very familiar with that part of the dream, to be honest.

But then finally, there was a bright light. I turned and I was in the basement of my home with another wife, who looked a lot like that third wife that was in a coma.

But definitely didn’t look like you.

And I took my wife by the hand and showed her a big contraption I had built her. It was hidden under a cloth and I ripped the cloth away.

And it was a chair. With a hole in the seat. That rocked back and forth.

And attached to the other end

Was

the godDAMM OSCAR I SHOULD HAVE WON FOR “UP IN THE AIR” holy shit that will haunt me for the rest of my days.

Anyway

then I woke up.

Pretty crazy dream, right honey?

 

Oh, also I was a stop-motion fox the whole time.

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About Eric Skala

Wit is directly proportional to available bourbon.

2 comments

  1. Um, can I have some of whatever you were on when you wrote this…? Great story.

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