There was a message for you. I think I won't tell you any more.
I could not convince her to share my own message with me. This was my wife, but one out of central casting in a troupe with a very limited roster. She isn't working out. Does the producer know this?
Joey is here. My brother will tell me. Joey, who wrote to me?
He doesn't want to say.
This is very strange. Even for a dream, it's strange.
Okay, okay. It was about Bob Biggers.
What , Cramer's little brother?
I don't think I've ever had a conversation with him. I haven't seen him in thirty years.
Well, apparently thirty years ago I gave him some beer and he went out and scratched the fender on his family Buick.
What does this have to do with me?
Well, it's your dream.
This is nuts.
Hey, I don't write this stuff.
We are back in the garage. I forgot to mention we started the scene in the garage. My vehicle, not a Buick, sits under what appears to be a giant IV stand. It's gushing at the top. Clear oil. I guess it's using oil but in a most peculiar manner.
Is this all? I mean, can we go home now?
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