Last night I had a very strange dream about fighting a war in a very stereotypical science fiction universe. The last thing I remember from the dream was seeing my (current, real) wife come around the corner, and being (as always) very happy to see her. She went on into the building, and then I saw her again. Wearing another set of clothes. And again. And again. Horrified, I realized that the enemy had managed to clone my wife.
Waking up, I turned to Tracy and told her about the dream I had just had. Fortunately (for a bunch of sci-fi geeks) we had already worked out a signal to ensure that neither of us had been cloned by the robot enemy.
She couldn't remember the signal.
I think what this means is that I really miss Battlestar Galactica. And that I am now married to some sort of android spy.
3 comments:
The worst part was that it was my original idea to even have the signal. I was the one that was worried and felt we should create it. And then I forgot it. Maybe I am a clone and I don't even know it.
Oh, just like that character in that TV show! Do you ever find yourself soaking wet and in possession of explosives you didn't know you possessed?
As an alternative, you could be under the imperius curse or polyjuiced. What's your favorite type of jam?
Fortunately, she later remembered the signal. Either that, or enough time had elapsed for the alien interrogators to get it out of her. I guess I'll never really know now.
Post a Comment