Last night I dreamed that Scott decided not to love me anymore. He told me so, then wrapped up his love in an old sweatshirt and tossed it in the river. Poor Mary.
After that we went to a bake sale which was promptly taken over by giant ants from outer space.
Earlier this week, in dream-land, Scott broke up with me and I had to go live in a flop house.
Another night I was married to the lusty Scotsman from the book I'm reading, and he caught me in the sack with Scott. He got so mad that he turned Scott into a strawberry rock and then crushed him with his fists of fury.
That dream Scott is nothing but trouble.