(For thy browsing pleasure:
I was Goofy. (No, I don't know why. Dreams are funny that way.)
I was driving around sunny, summery, and, well, cartoony countryside with an old car (the sort of car Goofy uses), looking for a place to stop to eat my sandwiches...
Ahead of me on the same road, an old snob couple (with grandchildren, too, I think) was driving. They had a nice, expensive car. They stopped to eat their sandwiches and drink tea on one grassy field.
Somehow, I ended up stopping by the same field, and tried to keep some distance to this snob couple.
Soon, it started to rain. Since both cars were convertibles, I and the snob guy both started to pitch our tents. My "tent" was just a 1.5 m wide stip of water-proof cloth that I somehow got to turn into a vaguely tent-shaped shelter. It wasn't much, but I stayed dry.
The snob guy was having problems with his tent. I asked them to come to my "tent". The woman and kids seemed to think it was a good idea, but the man didn't think so - he still tried to angrily pitch up the tent, and said that I would probably ask them a lot of money to use my tent.
Here was a shortish cartoon-style break, and the next thing I knew was that both were under my shelter. Neither said a word, but the expressions told it all - The man looked angry that he had to be here, and the woman seemed to be angry at the man, as if she just had to drag him under the shelter and told to stay there, want it or not.