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.