Sharon (or not), Lucifer and the Toy Store Bully

 

I had a dream with Sharon in it, though it wasn't her exactly. It was more of a dynamic which was familiar to me that Sharon and I had shared early on in our relationship. She was Runaround Sue, and I was the unsuspecting dupe who she was cheating on. 

It's one thing when you are just watching a TV show together, and your wife takes too long getting snacks in the kitchen. It's quite another when it turns out that she's banging one out with none other than Lucifer Morningstar, the devil on the TV show "Lucifer." She would wait until there was a particularly riveting part of the show coming on, one that I was sure to not want to miss, and she'd quietly slip away to the kitchen to engage in nastiness with His Cheesy TV Satanic Majesty himself.

I began to get suspicious and followed her on one of her trips. Right there, under the fluorescent kitchen light, with her hands on the counter, I found her naked and bent over, her explicit parts thrust up rearward in a ready, receiving position and a naked, oiled up Lucifer standing nearby.

I was shocked, but not shaken. I waited to see how she was going to explain this. She always seemed to have a ready and logical explanation, and was usually able to convince me that it was all in my mind. I think this time her explanation was simply that "it wasn't me," like that Shaggy song about the guy getting caught having sex on the bathroom floor, on camera, etc. 

But it really wasn't her, or quite her, at any rate. There was some Sharon essence there, but her outer appearance had shape-shifted, so I really had no case. I resigned myself to things being as they were and went back to watching TV.

Later on, I was in a long, narrow toy store. I was playing with some battery operated device that looked like a computer mouse, but functioned as a guitar tuner. It also had wheels, so it could travel about like a Roomba. It was a sought after little toy, fun for the whole family. 

My playing with the toy got the attention of the store's resident bully. He wanted a turn, and I was using up all the batteries. He made a threatening type of remark, which I ignored, and he disappeared for a moment or two.

Then, as if to cue the murder soundtrack, Radiohead's Creep came on the store's sound system. I saw the bully slowly making his way down the narrow aisles, wielding a large triangular butcher knife.  

"Cause I'm a creep," he sang along ominously with the song as he drew closer and closer.

I felt like it was going to be the end. Why hadn't I just given up the toy when I had the chance? Now I was about to be murdered in the aisle of the toy store while several onlookers feigned inattention.

When he reached me, I felt the tension peak. He sang the lyric once more right in my ear, and I felt the evil intention. There was no doubt that he planned to kill me, and he was just relishing the moment, moving in slow motion to the sound of the music.

I grabbed the knife and plunged it into his ear. It made a crunching, slicing sound as it penetrated his skull. He fell down dead, all circuits shorted. I left him there, the knife sticking out of the side of his head, and exited the building. The seemingly disinterested shoppers made an extra effort to avert my gaze as I strode past them. 

I was now the Creep.