I'm in some strange dystopian future, where one's station is indicated by the colored robes one wears. Some random guy and I are stationed in a big, faceless building (which in retrospect looked an awful lot like New School University's Graduate Faculty building), looking at big round racks of green, gold, and pink robes. If we get pink robes, we can have access to...something. I don't remember what, but it was important.

Then we're in a little car. The random guy is driving, I'm in the passenger seat. We're both in the pink robes. A third rebel, who happens to be Stephen Malkmus, is hiding in the back because we couldn't find a robe that would fit him. There's an explosion behind us.

Then I'm back in the pseudo-GF building. I walk through a big metal detector sort of device, nervous that I'll get caught. I'm not. In fact, I'm mistaken for some high-ranking official, and appointed coroner. I'm led into a morgue and I poke at corpses. Under one sheet is just a severed foot, which I pick up a piece of and start chewing on, like slimy, sticky chewing gum.

I wake up and am grossed the fuck out.