Robot me

So here's the latest in my subconscious stream of sleep sagas.

My first memory is of standing near the produce at the grocery store, where I witnessed the murder of two people. A girl stood nearby. I think she had a ninja sword in her hands. I could see into the laundry room just a few feet away (you know, the grocery store laundry room), and there were the two men, lying on the floor, side by side, with no heads. At least not attached. One man the girl hated, but the other was apparently her boyfriend, and she seemed pretty sad about having killed him. I looked at the head of the boyfriend. It looked back at me, then shut its eyes again. I looked away, then looked at the head. It looked back at me. Woooooh. Creepy. So I picked up the head and took it home with me. I showed the family, and warned them that the head liked to bite people. He had sharp teeth, too. But we had fun with the head. Soon it had grown arms and could swing around the place like a monkey, so I didn't have to carry it everywhere. Okay, Flash Forward.

I was a robot, built by a normal suburban family. They were normal, and they lived in the suburbs. I was tall and had cool features, like the ability to jump around the room with out getting tired and the ability to get a sore throat at times.

One day I was in the garage jumping around the room without getting tired. My little brother Michael was practicing parking the car on the driveway outside. I could tell because the garage door would get pushed inward every few moments, splintering the wood on the inside. Angelina Jolie, a member of the family, had just got home and was walking through the garage when she suggested that I study up on martial arts or acrobatics, so that when I'm jumping around all energetically I might throw some backflips in there. It seemed like a good idea for a change. I was always studying stuff like world history and the behaviors of modern societies (in my attempt to become assimilated to human society). I got a sore throat. Topanga from Boy Meets World came over and asked Angelina if she could use the restroom. That was pretty weird. She took a really long time, too. I didn't see her for the rest of the dream. Flash Back.

The head, which now had half a body, was swinging on some trees outside. He swung down to where some boys had been jerryrigging their own robot outside of their garage. It was an ugly robot, and it didn't have a face yet. The head/half-body swung down and taped the face to the robot, completing the project. The robot, which looked like scrap metal assembled haphazardly together, started jumping around the garage, as the boys sang along to a song playing in the background. At key moments there would be a break in the song lyrics, at which time the robot would chime in, saying "hot dog." The boys were delighted. Their robot was a success.