Zuggy buggy

What a thoroughly unusual dream. There I was, strolling through the rusty red plains of a place that I somehow knew was called Lonstalheim, or perhaps it was Lonstrates, I somehow knew both names. Eventually, I passed by some kind of rotten oasis. After that I was in sparse, scrubby grassland. It was while traversing this that I came upon something odd.

There was a wagon of some nature there, with no horses attached, or anything of the like. It was a large wooden construct, with a window on one side, a little sill projecting below it. The window was covered by a canvas curtain. As I drew near, the curtain rolled up.

A small legion of little Muppety guys behind it began to sing:

I boggled. In my confustigation, I just stood there and watched as they tittered maniacally between verses.

By now I was even more confused. I drew closer, pulling my feathery scarf around my neck as protection. I began to grin like a madman, though. Their giggling was quite contagious!

Third verse now and I was humming Henry the eighth just to keep from joining in. Bhang, ganja, something... But these guys were on something else!

The world was starting to look a funny shade of grue - or was it bleen? - now, and I was giggling as madly as the muppets. Funny, the zuggy buggy didn't seem to be that close a second ago...

The feathery scarf was down around my ankles now... Say, I didn't remember taking it off... And hey, why am I looking back the way I came? How about... Hu. Hu. Zu. gg. y...