Have you ever paused while in the middle of a REM cycle and thought, “Man, if I could get this down on paper, Hollywood could stop doing reboots of 1980s cartoons”? I have. Quite a few times recently, actually. But of course, once I wake up and try to remember them, my dreams slip away from me.
Saturday morning’s subconscious entertainment began with the murder of a chemistry professor by two of his students. They panicked and couldn’t think of a smart way to get rid of the body, so they dumped it, stupidly hoping that it just wouldn’t be found. Then they went about their business. One of them met the girl of his dreams and fell in love, completely forgetting all about the terrible crime he had committed. When he was finally caught, his greatest regret was not the death of his professor, but the fact that he had betrayed the trust of the woman he loved.
This morning I was treated to another hopeless love story, though this time it was narrated by the main character, a prisoner of war incarcerated in a detention camp. Not only did she fall in love with one of the guards, but she discovered a way for her side to win, which would end the terrible war. She told the secret of victory to several people she trusted: a few other prisoners and of course, the man she loved. Instead of helping her, all three chose to betray her, and she was killed. The creepy part is that she continued to narrate the story even after her death, including interesting tidbits about how uncomfortable it was to be buried near tree roots.
My dreams might be crazy and a little ghoulish, but I’m sure movie-going audiences would shell out money to see them on the big screen.
Anything to prevent Super Friends: The Movie.
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