(no subject)

I had a really interesting story-dream last night, which I'll try and get down without boring you. It was a film about four male childhood friends who were meeting up again after years apart (like, say, Stephen King's Dreamcatcher, perhaps)... Anyway, these four pals went through an interesting series of events in this cabin out in the woods, wherein it turned out that: one of them was secretly a werewolf, who could control his transformation using a silver mirror and moonlight; one of them was an ancient alien being who'd been living on our planet for centuries as part of a war with another alien race - and, incidentally, looked like a large mutant glowing heart with tentacles, hidden away inside his human carapace; and the other two ended up in a situation where they were deeply suspicious of each other, in an alien-invasion/john Carpenter's The Thing way, and (in a suitably dramatic moment) ended up shooting and killing each other.

It was a really cool film, like Tarantino subverting B-movie genres in a hilarious and ironic way (and no, I haven't seen either of the Grindhouse films yet). In fact, there was even a sequence when our heroes stumbled into a scene from Pulp Fiction... the one where Sam Jackson and John Travolta are in the diner facing off against Pumpkin and Honey-Bunny. And later on in the dream, a young girl was terrified of rabbits because a secret government experiment involving terrifying Cthulthu-tentacled-monster-meets-Hello-Kitty-bright-primary-colours Mutant Rabbits (made with felt in the film) had invaded her bedroom when she was very young and. Cuddled. Her. Dum Da Dum!

I love my subconscious, I really do.

But when I woke up, my butt really hurt. How do you explain that one, Sherlock?