Last night I spent my dream on one of my least favorite things in life: shopping.
My little brother Mike, Kody, and I were all walking around a 10 acre thrift store looking for good deals. The shelves, which were covered with old junk and dust, towered about thirty feet above the ground. There was so much crap to sift through. To make matters worse, the store was lit only by the sun coming in through high and foggy windows, and the air had the smell one would experience sticking his nose into a pair of sweatpants hanging on a rack in Goodwill and taking a long and thorough sniff.
I'm not sure what I was looking for. I climbed up several shelves all the way to the top in search of something that I wanted. However, after many long minutes of a thorough combing of the merchandise, I only had a forest green plastic garbage can and a grip-less basketball.
I was ready to purchase the goods, so I went to the closest store manager, who was wearing a fancy black suit and red checkered tie, as well as a thick black mustache and mullet. Come to think of it, he was the only thing in the store that was not desaturated. Right as I walked up to him, however, I stumbled upon an outstanding toy collection that included Legos, Ninja Turtles, and Batman toys.
Then I awoke.
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