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I was at some sort of small boring gift shop with Karen. I found a pack of four blue pencils which had text printed all over them. The text was a thoroughly well-researched paper about what physiologically happens to humans when they are trapped in a submarine that sinks to the bottom of the ocean. This paper was written by Brian the dog from The Family Guy. But this was a version of Brian that looked strange as though it was suffering heavily from "season one syndrome." My vision briefly cut to a Family Guy clip in which all of the characters in this distorted "season one" had lines all over their misshapen flesh which just made them look elderly. Anyway, I was thoroughly fascinated by Brian's paper printed on these pencils. I kept enjoying imagining that in a sinking submarine, the oceanic pressure causes you to first lose your eyes and ear drums, leaving you a helpless heap as you can never brace yourself for the moment the whole submarine collapses on you instantaneously. I never actually read any of the content on the pencils. Karen seemed eager to exit this gift shop.
I was visiting my Canadian friends, with Karen joining me. Everyone was crammed into a single small room that was something like a wooden tree-house suspended over the rapids of a jungle river, reminiscent of the Donkey Kong level in Super Smash Bros. Melee. We all played a party game involving seamstress work: There were dozens of pieces of fabric of varying patterns strewn about the floor, as well as a bunch of dresses with pieces missing. The goal of the game was to find a dress and fabric pieces of matching pattern and be the first to sew them together. Everyone was equipped with a single needle. I tried to store my needle in the waist of my pants. I found a matching dress and fabric piece; they were of a dark green plaid pattern. But suddenly I was embracing and kissing Karen. I noticed out of one opened eye that half a dozen children were watching us and smiling. Karen and I chose to politely leave because we got the impression that we were angering the Canadians.
I was watching a girl put on a fancy dress in her house. She seemed to be Victoria but not entirely so at times. Another girl entered the scene who I news was Victoria's friend, yet this other girl also was Victoria to a lesser extent. She had huge curly hair almost like an afro. She asked the first Victoria how she liked her dress, in an arrogant tone, and the first girl tried to throw a punch. They wrestled around and threw each other into a huge in-ground swimming pool nearby. This pool was bisected by a submerged wall that was about 10 to 15 centimeters thick, the top of which just at the surface of the water. Some sort of lubricating slime was constantly being pumped across the top of this wall. As the girls were fighting, a row of identical servant men speedily slid across the top of the wall to aid or stop the girls. I was aware that these identical men, moving always in unison, were bodyguards for the first Victoria. Soon after, a single man came sliding in from the other direction as second Victoria's bodyguard. His excuse for being late, and for there only being one of him, was meager and unmemorable. Unlike the others, his hair was blond.
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