I had a horrible nightmare last night, the kind of nightmare that stays with you far longer than it ever should.
In this dream, my EX-roommate (the one in Las Vegas, I mean), who inexplicably was represented by Norm MacDonald, was pissed off at me for some reason. Really pissed off. So pissed off, in fact, that he grabbed my dog Tucker and broke Tucker's front leg with his bare hands.
I was understandably horrified by this turn of events, but instead of calling the cops, I merely kept bleating, "It's $3000 to fix his leg!"
And the dream continued on, covering a day or so, throughout which Tucker cried and yelped piteously whenever he tried to put any weight on that leg. Ugh. Horrible.
I woke up at some point and cuddled Tucker even tighter, murmuring, "Poor baby! Poor baby!"
I'm having a hard time forgetting this one.