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You’ve Gotta Dream a Little Dream

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Do you like to dream?
Hey I like to dream, baby.
Do you like to dream?
Ho, I like to dream, mama.

Do you like to scream?
Hey I like to scream, baby.
Do you like to scream?
Ho, I like to scream, mama.

Badger and Pete loved Dance Dance Revolution. They had the original, Konamix, MAX version, and MAX 2 plus the best arcade-style metal dance pads money could buy. Badger barely had room for them in his closet, but: totally worth it.

The problem was it was really difficult to play high. As Franky Gee and the rest of Captain Jack busted out their nauseatingly bubblegum Europop anthem, the two boys bounced around on their pads as best they could, mostly just gyrating from side to side, flinging their arms out in all directions and carrying on executing various other ill timed bodily motions for which they would receive no points.


Ooh, la la, di, la da
You’ve gotta dream a little dream.

As the song ended, the two collapsed in a heap, their heads resting on the lip of Badger’s raised metal pad. Their physiques struck an amusing contrast lying next to each other, both sweating profusely, weazing and panting as their scores came up on the screen. Somehow they’d gotten to the end of the song without completely failing.

“Aw man, we are getting good at this shit,” Pete said, raising a finger slightly to point toward the ceiling.

“Fuck yeah, man. I don’t even need to work out with this game around.”

They shared a giggle and continued trying to catch their breath.

Suddenly, Badger’s cat appeared and scampered across their splayed forms. Both boys were momentarily alarmed but regained composure when they realized the unexpected movement was just Alice.

Badger inclined his head, “Dude did you know you can get high on cats?”

“Dude, what the shit? What are you smoking?”

“Some pretty fucking fine ass Mary Jane. Am I right?”

“Yeahhhhhhhh hahahahaha,” P laughed. “Yeah brotha’.”

Silence for a while.

“Dude, did you know you can get high off cats?”

“What the shit? Did you already say that?” Pause, “Am I talking really slowly?” He drew the syllables in slowly out.

“No, not at all,” Badger furrowed his eyebrows.

“Dude did you know you can get high off cats?”

“Dude, what the fuck are you talking about? You obviously want to tell a story so tell it.”

“Well, I was listening to NPR,” Pete started to cut in at that point to comment but let it go. . . “And they had this report about cat ladies and how they really aren’t crazy per se, but there is this toxin that cats have in their claws or something so every time they put their paws on you, a tiny bit gets in your body and it builds up over time so eventually it alters your perceptions of reality.”

This took a moment to digest and the boys laid together in deep, albeit hazy thoughts.

After a second, Pete finally caught on, “Woah, man, your cat is a drug!”

“Ha ha, yeah!”

Just then Alice darted back over and across both of them, pressing her paws all over their skin and clothes.

They looked at each other, eyes widening . . .

And laughed uncontrollably.