I had this bizarre dream right before the alarm went off that I'd thought I'd share here before I turn it into a story.
I was one of the dog people -- like Jojo, with hypertichosis -- in the Barnum and Bailey sideshow; this was back during the great train days. Barnum had decided that I'd lived past my prime and the best thing to do was to put me down, and of couse sell tickets. I kept trying to explain that I was a person, not a dog, but he said the audience wants a show, so they're going to get it. Finally, I told him, "Listen, I'm only fifty-six in dog years. Why not kill me when I'm seventy-seven?" He thought about and decided that was okay. I could live three more people years. But what were we going to do about the crowd that had gathered? Then the alarm went off.
No stealing my idea now. I'm going to used this, okay?
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