This dream had me in some seafaring town, like Jaws’ Amity, Lost Boys’ Santa Carla, or Dogma’s New Jersey boardwalk.  I was discussing with some friends the prices that Blockbuster pays for movies.  One that came up:

Late at night, on that very same pier, a creature as silent as the night (or at least quieter than the crashing waves), accosted me.  With its razor-sharp claws and fangs, it dismembered me.  I didn’t fight back.  In fact, I was rather accepting of my fate.

I remember coming back to awareness, but by this point, I was merely bones picked clean of their meat, buried beneath the wood planks.

Still sentient, I was fully aware of the conversations being held above about the Blockbuster store and the amount of rentals they needed to make their money back on each movie.  Nobody seemed to miss me.

I THOUGHT YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO DIE IN YOUR DREAMS!

In retrospect, I’m wondering if my subconscious was really thinking about the plot of this film:

Or maybe it was about my hidden concerns about the future of Blockbuster itself.  Ha!  Of course it’s not that!

INGREDIENTS: The usze… beer.

(SIDENOTE: Does the usze work as a shortened version of the usual?  Would the ush be better?)