You slap yourself in the face. This must still be part of the daydream.

    "Sir? The wheel of--Sir?!" Demands the auctioneer, beginning to look rather concerned.

    Not really caring, you continue to slap yourself in the face until the scene of the auction house fades and you find yourself at a beach in California. You're not entirely sure why you are at a beach in California, but you are sure that you are. Something--most likely the remains of one of the local sea monster's avian lunches (You know there's one of those too) is floating in the ocean nearby. That, you assume, must have been what led to the wheel-of-poultry daydream.

    And that is when the day-nightmare (daymare?) ensues. Under the macabre floating feathers, a shadowy fishlike figure rises up. Oh dear, you think, That's the sea monster. As your fellow beachgoers run away screaming, you sit dumbly in the sand, wondering what you did to deserve this. The sea monster rises up out of the water (Perhaps it has lungs as well as gills), stares at you hungrily, opens its mouth, and says...


The End

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