the devil's own hounds
I had an absolutely nutty dream the other night. Actually, I continue to have them almost every night, but this one pegged the meter.
I was working for a scientist or chemist or something, and in a parallel story arc, we were trying to determine whether the world was susceptible to an oncoming plague (which I guess we weren't actualy sure was really oncoming--such is science). This scientist was also the Devil's official dog breeder. So we were at this farm in the country, and the sky was a really dark blue in the early evenin, and there's this sillhouette of the Grim Reaper (not exactly the Devil, I know, but Pure Evil nonetheless) against the sky over by a fence as the scientist is selecting which puppy from a recent litter is good enough for the Dark One himself.
I found myself holding a golden Lab puppy, which made Death loom larger somehow, and blackout more of the sky. I realized this was kind of a special dog and put him down (or handed him back to the doc), which made the Beast retreat slightly. Apparently I wasn't to be trusted with the Foul Fiend's own hound.
Back in the farmhouse, the doc and I and a couple of other people were setting to work on what was up with this plague. I then disclosed that I had been involved in a similar investigation trying to debunk another crisis; in that case, though, the panic had been started and we were trying to defuse it. (This time we were trying to decide whether there was anything worth panicking about to begin with.) I was very clear with my new colleages that I'd had nothing to do with causing the initial panic, and asked that they didn't disclose my involvement in the investigation.
After some discussion (during which I realized I was mumbling, which in real life means I'm talking in my sleep), the scene shifted and I realized that the whole plague/dogs of Beelzebub thing had itself been a dream. In the new dream, I was recounting everything to some people (nobody I know) and realizing that I needed to expand it into a screenplay. So we started coming up with names for the characters, and writing a script.
At a certain point, I went off to make a coffee run for my writing partners, paid for the coffee and was asked for my social security number. It being a dream, I gave it (never would do that in real life). I was waiting around for the self-serve coffee caraffes to be refilled, getting a little anxious about how long it was taking, when I checked my wallet and realized that several thousand dollars had appeared in it. I didn't really count the money, but there was a thick stack of bills in there all of a sudden. I attributed this to fact that Lucifer realy wanted us to make this movie about him and his dogs, and that's why he had made the baristo ask me for my SSN. (Because, being the Red Serpent, he was going to report the income to the IRS??)
I kept wandering around waiting for the caraffes to be refilled, marveling at/somewhat frightened by Satan's power. I continued to ask where the coffee was (mumbling in the dream which means I was mumbling aloud in my sleep), and why couldn't I get my coffee, and then finally I woke up.
Weird dream. Not sure it's any good as a screenplay, though.