I made Fettuccine Alfredo and garlic naan for dinner last night. I made a metric ton of it. Everyone was full and pushed off from the table after an hour or more, scattering to the four corners of the house to enjoy the heavy rain and a second glass of wine for those who indulge, and water or ginger ale for those who don't.
But then every single one of us had absolutely bonkers nightmares. Mine were ludicrous, ranging from trying to make a toy shop owner laugh so that she would let me leave, to beating a delayed preteen to death because he made an inappropriate move on me, as I was trying to use the bathroom in a derelict building that I had run into to escape the whole toy shop experience. Every single person I touched in the dream melted where I touched them. I hit the kid with a metal pipe and his whole head caved away like it was cheese dripping off a barbecue grill and I woke up angry and scared. Then I heard the dreams of the boys. They were different and weird and some were worse.
We are never eating Fettucine Alfredo ever again. What the fuck.