In this dream, I was in a touring synth pop band with my friend Jeremy. When we performed we wore ties on stage.
It was the day after a performance, and I found myself finishing a meal in the Japanese restaurant connected to our little hotel by the beach, still wearing my tie from the night before.
On the television in the restaurant was a horror movie about a roving gang of alien killer clowns, three of which didn’t actually have faces. Instead, their heads were covered in colorful fabric, topped with fuzzy muppet-like wigs. They would periodically have seizures as they walked. Part of what was horrifying about these three was how sick and profoundly unnatural they were.
The fourth alien was actually not an alien, per se, but a murderous gorilla in a clown suit.
He, too, began to have a seizure, but in his case, it was because his face was not his own, and was now ‘breaking’ as his body rejected it.
He needed a new face.
So he tackled a sports mascot, tore off his costume head piece, and ripped the man’s face off as he screamed. Satisfied with the look of his new face, the gorilla smashed the man’s skinless head in with a boulder and walked off.
At this point a group of bubbly girls entered the restaurant. The hostess invited them in, then looked at me, and with an icy glare, directed me to bus my own plate.
The hostess’s rudeness mattered little to me, as in the next moment, I was sucked into the movie completely. I was now a character in the movie.
The detective, in voice over, explained to me that there had been a break in the serial murder case we’d been investigating: the most recent body found had wounds that matched a silenced pistol, found nearby.
There is a sense of acceleration, along with an image of flying low over sand dunes, as we arrived…
…At a little hotel by the beach, with a Japanese restaurant connected to it.