Accompanied by unseen companions we descend the ancient stone stairways to the forgotten crypt. Our torches smokily sputter with alliterations. Down ahead we can see faint candlelight dancing in the dark. The vault is faintly lit but with our dark-attuned eyes we have the impression we could read by this light. All around us are white sarcophagi with dead, naked fat men sprawled across the lids. They have really, really tiny penises. A small girl emerges from the opposite side of the tomb and visits each corpse. With a tiny knife she relieves the dead of their dicks and pops them into her sack like Santa Claus.

As she's making her escape up the stairway which brought us here one of my unseen companions grabs her sack and whacks her on the head. The girl glows bright blue and becomes a Blue Lantern before escaping back upstairs. Everyone busies themselves pushing the bodies back into their sarcophagi, squeezing each corpulent cadaver into their final resting place. Someone hands me the girl's bag which I drop onto one of the corpses before the heavy alabaster lid is shoved back in place.

Back outside I'm joined by the new Blue Lantern and realize that it's the assistant graphic arts editor from my college newspaper, Sarah. She tells me that I can't be a blue lantern like her but she still wants me to come over to her place later. Sarah flies away while I waddle down to Wal-Mart or some brightly lit discount store. Laying on the ground is a red ring which I put on my finger and become a Red Lantern. Overcome with rage I go on a rampage through the store, knocking over displays, disconnecting the oxygen tubes of fat people and general mayhem. Eventually my red ring is exhausted and I find myself naked in the sewing supplies section while cops begin infiltrating the store to apprehend me. I receive a mental summons to go to 22929 Pacific Street in San Diego, California for a new ring.

I don't remember how I arrived or what the exterior of my destination appeared but I was at 22929 Pacific St.. Standing in a darkened room is a tall, black man wearing a dark cloak trimmed in red. He condemns me as stupid while handing over my prize. I pocket the ring and head to Sarah's place.

We're in her room and I'm feeling her up over her clothes. The posters on her walls are distracting me from my molestation. Now I have to take a serious piss. I pick her up and put her aside and go into the living room because she doesn't have a bathroom. A red leather armchair is my urinal when I lift the seat cushion and begin the tedious chore of relieving my bladder. Coming in the front door is a girl from my job. She's pasty with dyed red hair and always talks with an outside voice. Did I mention I can't stand her in waking life? Suddenly I'm overcome with guilt and paranoia because in the dream I'm cheating on her with Sarah. Now I'm glancing at Pasty and looking back towards Sarah's bedroom hoping neither encounter each other.

Now I'm aware that I'm taking a piss on a chair. A nice chair. I can't win.