The episode of the turquoise car

Only a few days back I happened to have a very queer dream. I know that being surreal is one of the defining characteristics of a dream. But then what I saw was quite unexpected.

Following is what happened:

….. I was driving a turquoise car which quite incredibly ran faster than a bicycle. Peering out the windows I noticed that a crow was hooting on the top a mutilated hat. The hat was as big as an inflated tennis ball and was sadistically perched on the head of a brand new coca cola bottle. I was mesmerized. But suddenly I felt an urgent pang of some fluid. So what I did I produced a purple onion from the left pocket of my red pair of trousers and started slicing it with the blunt nails of my right hand. But just when I was about to drink that celestial lachrymal juice my optic nerves told my hypo-reactive medulla oblongata that an airplane was about to crash against my turquoise car. Quite naturally I was more than terrified and everything went blank. After a few seconds some high school girls were giggling at my stark naked body which was surrounded by some transparent sticky liquid. Forthwith, it dawned upon me that I had time travelled and my subconscious self exhorted me to salvage my virility. So I contrived myself into a gauche architecture and closed my sulfur laced eyes. When I opened them, my awkward laid body was drenched with a monsoon of sweat and my linguistic gland parched dry. So I stood up, drank a glassful of water and adorned myself with a new shirt.