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January 11, 2006
Dream Log Entry 1.0: Elliot Gould's Teeth
Fool and I are attending a Thanksgiving event that is taking place outdoors. The venue is a cross between Fool’s family’s shore house and the land my Father used to live on in Illinois. I am nervous because Fool’s Mother has asked me to invite my Mother to the event. My nervousness causes me to occupy myself by helping out with various tasks including fixing all of the electronics in the house.
My Mother arrives and has invited all of her sisters to come along with her. I am furious with my Mother for inviting other people and I tell her so. I am so furious that I start working on broken electronics to the point that I am falling asleep due to exhaustion. Someone wakes me up while I am working on a television, or at least something that has a screen.
[SCENE ABRUPTLY CHANGES]
Fool and I are standing on the shoulder of a dirt (possibly gravel) road. The landscape is very flat like Illinois. It is bright outside but there is a golden sepia tone overlay on everything (In the dream I thought it looked like the cinematography of Devil’s Rejects).
A car came slowly into view from our right traveling down the country road. The car looked as if it had been through a crushing machine, making all sorts of metallic scraping noises. As the vehicle passed us, we could see that it was dragging numerous parts, pitching and rolling violently, and only two wheels were touching the ground at any given time.
The vehicle passed our field of vision to the left. The trunk of the vehicle was gaping open amid a tangled mess of metal and wires. In the trunk was a body. An arm hung out of the trunk, flopping around wildly in time with the erratic motion of the vehicle.
The car grinds to a halt just past Fool and I. The weight of the vehicle shifts to the rear causing it to sit on it's haunches of sorts. The downward angle of the trunk causes the body to flop out of the trunk onto the roadway. Time pauses as Fool and I consider the corpse.
[CAMERA ANGLE CHANGES TO WORM’S EYE VIEW]
The corpse stirs and stands up. After rotating it’s head to crack it’s neck the corpse turns toward the camera and looks down into it (which is now my own POV). Oddly, the corpse’s face is that of this drunken guy Fred who Fool and I met the night before at Growler’s but with shoulder length, thin, greasy hair. The corpse purposely advanced on the camera. “Do you know who I am,” the corpse asked pausing briefly as if waiting for my response. I do not respond. The corpse draws his fist back and yells, “I’m Elliot Gould’s teeth, Motherfucker!”
The corpse’s upper body is framed against the sky, which abruptly takes on a psychedelic quality ala Natural Born Killers. Still there is the odd orange, sepia tone overlay. The corpse swings down toward the camera with a haymaker punch. There is a flash of brilliant white light as the punch makes contact.
Dreams Posted By eBill at 07:10 PM
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