bookishwench | Fic: What Dreams May Come (Rozerem commercial, FRT)

My third Yuletide offering would be the gigantic piece of crack I mentioned at one point. For those who don't automatically know the Rozerem commercials, they stars the talking beaver, Abe Lincoln, and the guy in the diving suit. One example, and another, and another if you have no idea what I'm talking about.

Author: Meltha
Rating: FRT
Feedback: Yes, thank you. Melpomenethalia@aol.com
Spoilers: They’re Rozerem commercials. There is no plot to spoil
Distribution: The Blackberry Patch and Fanfiction.net. If you’re interested, please let me know.
Summary: The dangers of not dreaming are a lot more serious than you might think. So quit being a realist!
Author’s Note: Written for marginaliana for a Yuletide 2007 stocking stuffer
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by whatever drug company owns Rozerem. Absolutely no copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made. This work of fiction is not intended to either support or not support the use of this product.

What Dreams May Come

Dreams – they are the most mysterious of all the mind’s many wondrous facets. Within the embrace of Morpheus, ordinary humans can plunge headlong into flights of whimsy without fear of repercussions from society and indulge in their most id-based fantasies. This remarkable and deeply interesting physiological phenomenon…

“You’re boring them.”

Pardon me?

“You’re boring them. Them, you know, the people reading this. You sound like one of those pompous filmstrips from the fifties, like the one they do a take off of in the Rocky Horror Picture Show.”

I do not!

“Abe, back me up on this one, buddy.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid my companion has a point, not that you aren’t trying.”

“Kiddo, seriously, I’ve got such a point that I could be the Empire State Building. The only way this could get worse is if you started listing off possible side effects like a narrator on the end of one of those commercials, like, ‘Taking this medication may lead to a dry cough, runny nose, headache, popping ears, your fingers falling off, spontaneous decapitation and a sudden desire to date Richard Simmons.’”

“There’s no reason to get nasty about Mr. Simmons, Beav. He’s a very nice man.”

“Would you want to date him, Abe?”

“Well, no. I don’t, as you put it, swing that way. Still, you’re not being very nice.”

Excuse me, but I was in the middle of a dissertation on why sleep forms an important part of the basic daily habits of all living creatures and how the disruption of dreams can lead to perilous and potentially life-threatening situations.

“You’re doing a pretty decent job of putting your readers to sleep, so that’s something.”

Hey!

“Come on! Me and Abe are the only things getting anyone curious about this whole topic, and we can do it a lot better than you. No offense or nothing, but we’ve had a lot more experience dealing with insomnia than you have.”

Oh really? And what would you be able to tell our esteemed readers? That sleep deprivation can lead to lack of concentration, difficulty operating motor vehicles, increased moodiness…?

“Blah, blah, blah! See! I told you that you were starting to sound like one of those narrators on the drug commercials. No, what me and Abe and Jules can discuss is the really severe consequences of not sleeping.”

Such as… wait, who’s Jules?

“The guy in the diving suit. Who’d ya think?”

I hadn’t actually noticed he was here.

“Yes, well, it’s a bit hard for Jules when we’re being discussed in print since he doesn’t speak. Unless someone mentions him, it’s easy to overlook him. Wave to the nice people, Jules!”

Abe, this is a story. I can’t see him waving, and neither can the readers.

“Shows what you know! Once they read that he’s waving, they’ll see it in their imaginations, and since that’s where Abe and Jules and me live to begin with, it makes perfect sense. So quit being rude and wave at the computer screen already.”

Fine. There. How’s that.

“You do realize I know you didn’t wave, right?”

Oh, for pity’s sake! There, is that better?

“It’ll do. Now, as I was saying, we can tell you all about the really bad side effects of not dreaming. Do you have any idea what happens to dreams when people don’t sleep?”

They wind up not being created?

“No, you twit!”

“Beav, a little decorum, please! After all, the readers aren’t used to thinking of things from our point of view.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got very little patience with realism.”

You don’t like reality?

“No, no! Look, racism is when people think their race is better than everybody else’s, classism is when people think their social class is better than everybody else’s, sexism is when people think their gender is superior to everybody else’s, so realism is…”

When people think their reality is better than everybody else’s?

“Exactly! Now you’re getting it! Just cause we don’t come from the same reality as humans doesn’t mean we aren’t important too!”

Sorry. I guess I was being rather… realistic.

“Eh, I’m willing to let bygones be bygones. Anyway, when you guys don’t dream, we get stuck, see?”

Not really.

“It’s like this. We dream beings live in the subconscious of humans, and when you don’t sleep, we don’t have the freedom to move about and stretch our legs, so to speak.”

Okay, Mr. President…

“Oh, call me Abe! No need to be so formal. After all, I’m a manifestation of your own subconscious.”

You are?

“Certainly!”

And so is Beav?

“You betcha!”

That’s really remarkably disturbing.

“Hey! A talking beaver freaks you out, but you don’t mind having a conversation with a dead guy who got assassinated over a century ago and wore a hat that’s an obvious phallic symbol?”

“Beav, my hat is not Freudian!”

“That would be denial right there that you’re wading in, pal.”

Okay, okay, so you’re elements of my subconscious… and so is Jules. I don’t want him to feel left out.

“That’s nice of you.”

“I still say you’re a realist.”

Anyway! What does happen if dream beings aren’t permitted to exist in their reality?

“What do ya think? We have to find another reality to exist in, so we come into yours.”

Dream beings just show up in human reality? Wouldn’t we notice that?

“It happens more often than you might think. Some of them even get quite well known. For example, many of them modeled for Picasso. Then there was Liberace, the entire cast of the Muppet Show, and all the platypuses in the world as well as about half the lemurs.”

“That’s platypi, Abe.”

“Actually, Webster’s says both are correct.”

“Huh. Live and learn.”

So you’re telling me that when people don’t dream their dreams bleed over into human reality?

“You got it, sweet cheeks.”

That could get pretty scary, actually.

“Kid, you wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve seen people suddenly show up naked in the middle of their old high school history class.”

Oh my.

“Or the infamous ‘wall of water’ thing. A few too many people who get that one don’t sleep for a while and suddenly, blammo! Tsunami!”

Lack of sleep causes tsunamis?

“Yeah. And it’s already plural.”

“Actually, Webster’s says both are correct again.”

“You’re a regular walking dictionary, Abe.”

“I’m not sure I should take that as a compliment.”

“Neither am I.”

I had no idea what perils lack of regular dreaming could cause. Is there anything else our readers should know?

“Well, it’s a good idea to keep in mind that we’re here in order to help them, make their creativity flow, sometimes give them answers to their problems or confront their greatest fears in safe, controlled environments.”

“And sometimes we just like playing with their fears because we get a kick out it.”

“Beav, that’s not very nice!”

“Well, really, what would you be more scared of: Abe Lincoln or a talking beaver with an attitude problem?”

The beaver because it might be rabid.

“Exactly! No one ever considers what damage a rabid Lincoln could have done! I mean, think about it for a second! The President of the United States, running through the streets of Washington, biting random citizens with his frothing mouth!”

“That’s a terrible visual! It’s ruining my image for thousands of schoolchildren and penny collectors!”

“Granted, he coulda bit Lee and made the whole Civil War end a heck of a lot faster, but that’s beside the point.”

So that horrible purple and puce monster who used to chase me down the street in my nightmares?

“You don’t sleep and he’s suddenly charging down the highways of the major cities of America, terrifying grannies and small children, and it’s all your fault!”

Good heavens.

“Yeah. It’d be a problem of epidemic proportions. That’s why you guys need to sleep more! What’s with this trend of getting four hours of sleep and then waking up and poof! Off to the office where you shove cup after cup of over-caffeinated java down your gullets to keep your peepers open.”

“Personally, I’m deeply offended by the energy drinks and triple-caffeine beverages that are all the rage now. They make us all feel terribly unwanted and underappreciated.”

Oh, Abe! I’m sorry you feel that way. I, for one, now have a much greater understanding of the importance of letting dreams get their full share of existence in their dream reality.

“That makes me feel immensely better.”

“You’re a sentimental sop, you know that?”

“Well, sentimental literature was at its height around the time of my death, so I suppose I’m a product of my environment.”

“Whatever. You’re an okay guy, but come on. Don’t let Achilles see you sniffling like that or he’ll clobber you.”

Achilles?

“Yes, Achilles, as played by Brad Pitt in the movie Troy, is supposed to be stopping by your dreams tonight.”

He is?

“Yup.”

Then what am I doing still awake! Beav, Abe, Jules, I truly thank you for your wonderful explanation of the importance of sleeping so that dream beings are able to stay in their own realities rather than invading our world and causing tsunamis, with the s optional, Liberace, and platypi. Goodnight and sleep tight!

“Do you think we should tell her that Achilles is going to morph into Richard Simmons at a very inopportune moment?”

“Nah, why spoil it for her. Hey, Jules! Gimme another cup of Joe, will ya?”

“I thought you hated coffee.”

“I do, but it’s the only thing that takes pine sap off my teeth. Besides, I’ve got a cameo in somebody’s dream in a couple hours.”

“Whose?”

“Somebody reading this. Who knows. Maybe it’s you. Yeah, you, the one reading this right now! Hey, don’t you see Jules waving at you! Wave back, for crying out loud! Don’t you have any manners at all!”

“Say goodnight, Beav.”

“Goodnight Beav.”

“You had to go for that old joke?”

“Says the guy who thinks that outfit is still fashionable.”

*Reading this fic may cause groaning, eye-rolling, an irresistible desire to see if coffee actually does remove pine tar from tooth enamel (it doesn’t), and an inability to watch the Rozerem commercial without wondering if that diving suit guy really is named Jules. If these symptoms persist or worsen, the author has done her job.