Scooby Doo

At one point in time the four of us became extremely disgruntled with the state of affairs. What was the state of affairs? I don't remember. Who were we? I don't remember that either.

We made a little desert island for us. In the sun. With palm trees. Very stereotypical. We sat around a picnic bench and began to talk about how we like dogs.

I turned to the woman beside me. "You don't like small dogs, do you?" In the distance I could see something moving toward us in the grass.

"Actually, I do," she replied.

"But not like the toy kind?"

"They're really good for hunting," she said "they point stuff out and you shoot it."

It was just then that distant object arrived. It was a mechanical Scooby Doo and it bit the head off of the woman I was talking to. It was actually quite comical.

Then I woke up.