So Michele’s down ten pounds and getting married to Heath Ledger and we’re all there. I mean, we’re all there in the wedding suite as he carries her across the threshhold, throws her onto the large heart-shaped bed with all those mirrors all over the place and starts getting undressed. And he undresses and undresses, and doesn’t stop when he gets down to his skin, and peels that off too and UNDERNEATH HE’S FRED DURST!!!
And we’re all laughing and laughing and I fall out of bed and wake up, still laughing.
Okay, it wasn’t a real dream. I’ll try again tonight, Michele.
Heh. Good try.
I hate you Miguel. Get a better dream or I shall smite you.
Oh, and marraige isn’t necessary. I just want to get nasty with him.
What, nasty like beat-him-with-a-crowbar nasty?
If that’s what floats yer boat…
Well, we all know of Michele’s deep-seated loathing of Fred Durst…
You misread Keith. I want to get nasty with Heath Ledger. I want to kill Fred Durst.
You are all just so terribly stupid. Heath is out of reach for you honey. Try again sometime when you’ve come to your senses.