I Fantasize of Fillmore


(The title is a total rip-off of “I Dream of Jeannie”, but who cares, eh?)

Holy crap! He’s invading my flippin’ dreams now! It must be a happy little pay-off to the week dedicated to him. However, it was one weird dream…

So Maggie and I (yes, Maggie, you were in this dream as well) were walking around in this half-collapsed house in the dead of winter. On the upper floor, there’s this random guy who appears to have just strangled his wife or something. We take note of this, but don’t really care at the time (are we high? Are we insane? What’s going on here?!).

Yeah. So anyways, Maggie’s kind of wandering around and I’m digging around in this one dark corner of the bottom floor’s main room. I stumble upon a life-sized statue thingy of Millard Fillmore, and I’m all “OMG LOL MILLARD FILLMORE, BITCH!” But in truth, I say, “Hey Maggie, look what I found–a Millard Fillmore statue.” I notice that he has this hidden compartment in his chest, so I open it and pull out this old spell book.

I look through it for a while and notice that these six long, rusty nails (phallic symbols–holy crap!) appear on the floor. I read this one spell and say to Maggie, “hey, guess what we can do? We can take these nails and this spell and pick six people and send them to hell!” Maggie’s all, “O…kay…” and I’m going, “here, take the nails and pick six people to kill. I’m going to go get a taco.” Maggie gets all flustered and uncomfortable, saying, “I don’t really feel comfortable killing people this way. What if something goes wrong?” So I basically explain that this was the way business was carried out–one person came up with the idea and the other carries it out. I point to myself and say “concept” and then point to her and say “execution.” Then I hand her the nails and leave (I’m totally ditching the whole situation…why does this sound familiar?).

And then I’m in Maggie’s head, thinking as she would think in the dream. She’s going, “okay, I’ve got these death nails…I guess I’ll kill that guy upstairs cause he just killed his wife…”, so she drops one of the nails into the ground. Then she runs out of ideas about who to kill and thinks, “I guess I can kill whoever came up with this weather…cause it’s so…cold?”

And then the alarm woke me up. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to see the rest of Maggie’s victims. Nor did I ever get that taco.

 

Keep in mind this was a dream. Apologies to Maggie and the great Millard Fillmore.

<3 We will always keep him in our hearts. <3

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