My friend Jimmy loves to study psychology and he asked me whether I had any dreams. He would like to analyse my dream to see what darkness he may find in my subconscious.
I told Jimmy that I dreamt that I had sex with his wife. I explained that in my dream, Jimmy had been killed in an accident and I took his head with me to a clinic that specializes in face transplants. I had Jimmy's face placed on the bones where my own face was and went to his home, as a practical joke, to have sex with his wife. The whole time I was feeling anxiety about her catching on that it was not really Jimmy, but simply his face. But by being very careful, I managed to pull it off. The energy required to prevent myself from going into hysterics was monumental. I did pull it off however and when I had sex with his wife, I then burst out laughing and spilled the beans. You should have seen the shocked look on her face when I told her that her Jimmy was indeed as dead as a doornail and that it was me that she was having sex with all along. I guess in retrospect, I can see why the humourous side of the situation was lost on her. She competely overrected and the dream became a little nasty.
"Do you think your wife would love me if I had your face" I asked.
Jimmy studied my face a while as I watched him process the dream. Then he said, "You know Sam, this is why you don't have any friends".
"No", I replied, "that isn't why I don't have any friends. I don't have any friends because faces mean nothing to me".
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