Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Watch out for Doctor Dream

The newest upgrade to the Riddled Dream Machine is proving popular with the punters.* See how long the queue has grown! It is the 'subtitle' feature that draws in the crowds, for Riddled's loyal customers are cultured and educated and they would rather watch the original foreign dream than wait for the inevitable Hollywood remake with Nic Cage or Tom Cruise.
The next customer in line is receiving his complimentary pint of Matariki Mild (we strain the lumps out!). Normally they do not struggle while it is administered. I am not convinced that it is a good idea to use the library pixies' swimming-pool as the Restraint Chair but the architect said it was multipurposed negative space and inwards / outwards flow.
As for the customer with the pet skwirl, she was warned about the "Mrs Spat" problem so she shall not be receiving a replacement.
Evangeline van Holsteren's
idiot boyfriend is BARRED
No-one has adequately explained to me how the Dream Machine actually works. Yes, it sucks in psychic images from the Ectoplasmoferous Æther and concentrates them around the user's head in the manner of a sweat lodge with warmth to open the pores, but when I ask AK for details, it's all just hand-waving. It looks to me as if the imagery is sticking to some sort of adhesive blanket, though that's probably because my mind is still on "Air-Hockey and Mucus-Sheet Feeding in Nemertean Worms Evening" last night at the Old Entomologist.

I am aware that there are those among you who are not happy with this onward march of progress, and would stand athwart history, crying "Stop!" This is not advisable due to the narrowness of history; Greenish Hugh slipped off when he was trying it and was all "Ow! My balls!" Anyway, agitate as you will, the Riddled Research Laboratory will not bring back the original Firkin model of Dream Machine, which condensed the psychic detritus into wine.**

For the sake of older customers, set in their ways, we will continue to support the previous model, with the hot tub and the angel wings and the penguin mask for anonymity.

Left: Monochrome setting

Right: Full-colour dreams are more expensive

* All pictures of the Riddled Dream Machine were produced using the Riddled Dream Machine. The management offer no warranty.

** I'm not sure what tigris wanted the wine cask for.

9 comments:

mikey said...

In the brilliantly cinematographic animation we discover that it is not Matariki Mild that is being administered to the customer, but rather a series of overhand rights and classic haymakers of a distinctly thugish nature. I'm thinking there were a few gentlemanly wagers the previous evening, and somebody lost track of their basic doubloon maths.

Also, too, considering the peevish nature of most casually dressed monkeys, and the pleasant glow elucidated by unclothed females, it is perhaps high time we revisit the phrase "more fun than a barrel of monkeys", substituting a well turned phrase expressing how much fun boobs in a barrel can be.

Just a suggestion. Jeez...

tigris said...

Ye Olde Senforie Deprivatione Chambre.

ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© said...

I'm drinking wine as fast as I can so that I might deprive my senses of the memory of leaving D.C. during rush hour.
~

Smut Clyde said...

I'm drinking wine as fast as I can
Give that man a funnel.

Ye Olde Senforie Deprivatione Chambre.
I for one would pay to see the Baroque version of "Altered States".

Big Bad Bald Bastard said...

I for one would pay to see the Baroque version of "Altered States".

Avec Kenne Rufstle?

M. Bouffant said...

I need one of those gut-drainers, as getting up to poop is becoming an imposition.

fish said...

I said baked bread

Substance McGravitas said...

No-one has adequately explained to me how the Dream Machine actually works.

There is a toggle that turns the machine on and off.

Another Kiwi said...

The top right-hand picture of the barrel series shows a little known episode in the Salted Pineapple trade when the so-called "Pineapplers" who dressed as pineapples and rolled unsuspecting ladies around the countryside in empty salted pineapple barrels.