Last night, I had the same dream as the night before. I got fired. I worked for and with the same people, but I was a comic book writer/illustrator. We produced a number of comics, including the one I worked on the most. Its name was something like "Hellboy." Maybe it was Hellboy, but it wasn't the real Hellboy comic. I think I wrote an issue in which the narrator spoke about how his china cabinet was a gateway to hell.
I probably would've fired me, too.
When did you get a look at my china cabinet?
