- Good morning!
I said. And asked the same question I ask every morning:
- What did you dream about?
- Nothing,
he said; mind moving to other matters more important.
I am persistent.
- You didn't dream about anything?
- No, not really.
He said, brushing me off.
I am not easily brushable.
- How about telling me ONE tiny thing you dreamed about?
I asked.
He started in first gear and effortlessly upshifted to sixth:
- I dreamed about a walrus and it was evil. No, actually it was just bad. He had a knife and he didn't really have a name. I was swordfighting him with a broadsword and his eyes were glowing. He did not have his blood out or his bones out and then I was knifefighting him, and we did not become friends. I won.
- Oh.
I said.
Nice dream.
____
(Buried in here are the names of two songs by two of the greatest bands ever. One is very obvious, one is slightly less so. What are they?)
I guess technically there's a bunch of one-word titles, like Friends. Not it though.
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