Du-Du-Du Du-Du-Du Du (Mario Bros theme music)

I had this dream Thursday night, while still very feverish.

It started like a super Mario Bros. game. Me and another were on the side of a huge water pool (like in Marine Land) and needed to get to the other side: we were trying to reach some kind of wise oracle. The guy said we had to wait for Bowser (the boss in Super Mario) to hit the bottom of the pool. So Bowser jumps in the water and starts sinking, a killer whale goes buy him, and he hits the bottom. Then the plateforms around the pool flip up. As we're making our way on the plateforms, the other guy (which turns out was my brother) picks up a pack of cigarettes. The plateforms were weird; made of white plastic, like some high-tech conveyer belt. We had to be careful, some of the plateforms we weren't supposed to step on. Anytime we did, they would flash red. Hit too many and Bowser floats up to the surface and we'd have to start over.

We finally got to the oracle and he was standing behind what looked like a Sears cosmetics counter. The oracle turned out to be a cartoon dog that looked a lot like Beegle Beagle or Hong Kong Phooey from Hannah Barbara cartoons (basically a generic white dog with long black ears). So Isabelle asked him her question: "I need to know what to answer my students if they ask me what the best dandruff shampoo is." We were trying to be respectful since the dog was supposed to be this wise oracle, but he was being a dick: "What? You excpect me to say 'Head N Shoulders'? hum...Why don't YOU tell me what the best dandruff shampoo is?" Which was where I was supposed to come in and do my part: "Because that's not HER job." I grabbed him and shook him around a bit; which was easy because, being a skinny cartoon dog, he was a real push-over.

He then called his body guard: Hector the bull-dog from the Tweety and Sylvester cartoons, which I had to fight in a ring. While he was a bull-dog, he was still just 2 feet high and a cartoon, so he weighed nothing. I grabbed his front paws and spun him around for a while, then threw him in a corner. Birds stated circling his head.

Then the next guy came in: a slick-back latino came in with his coach and manager. He looked a lot like Sancho from the Orgasmo movie. We fought a bit, UFC style, until I got him in this wicked hold. He was on his back and I had my knees on his shoulders, I had one hand on his throat and the other was pulling his leg up behind my head (I know this sounds impossible and gay). He tapped out.

But that wasn't it. He was pissed. He was yelling and screaming in Latino, pointing at his belt in a glass display case, something about him still being the champion and how this was his family's honour. I just said "Yeah yeah whatever. Just give us what we need and we'll leave." He got really suprized, shocked really, that I wasn't impressed by all his honours and stuff. He was still trying to figure how get the better of me. For some reason he knew my weakness for the "How It's Made" TV show and offered to show me how they make their pastries.

He brought me to their kitchen in the back. All the ustensils and tools were gold plated and everything had this air of fantasy. All the while he was standing close behind me, whispering in my ear how they made things, trying to seduce me (geez, never realized how gay this dream was). When I came out of the kitchen, I was pretty happy: I'd seen all those cool machines and knew how they made their things. Isabelle, who had been waiting all this while, was sitting on a bench and she asked, rather impatiently: "Well?"

I was just grinning.

Then I woke up.