When he woke up the next day Adam remembered a dream where Michelle was dressed as one of the babes from He-Man, huge boobs and long flowing hair – pretty much the opposite of Michelle, actually.

As usual he didn’t remember most of the dream, just bits and pieces. But he vaguely remembered Michelle bent over a mountain. Battle Cat mounted her. Digging into her back with his claws, Battle Cat turned and flashed Adam the goat’s head. Adam was dressed as He-Man. But he didn’t have any muscles. Everything was way too big for him. His armor weighed him down. So he couldn’t pick up the sword to stop Battle Cat from fucking his girlfriend with a gigantic barbed cat penis.

After masturbating Adam got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. Wiping his hands on the sex towel, he thought about meditation. He had not meditated in a long time. But for some reason it seemed like a good thing to do. Because he had not written a screenplay in a long time either. At times it seemed like he may never write a screenplay again.

Maybe I’m not supposed to be a filmmaker, he thought. Maybe I should start a lo-fi band. That would be easy. Adam glanced at his internet bill, tacked to the wall, as he walked into the bathroom. Maybe I should subscribe to cable, he thought. He turned on the light. People say Madmen is good, maybe it is. He unzipped his pants and peed in the sink because the toilet was clogged. Maybe I should start watching Madmen, he thought.

Then he remembered leaning his sword against a wall of the warehouse the night before. Because he felt like a tool trying to mosh with it lit up red and green all the time. Adam thought, My mom’s going to kill me, even though he was twenty-one.

He thought about writing a screenplay about himself, his situation – about this, his situation – but decided against it. He decided that would be too easy. Adam did not think writing should be easy. Or fun.

He was out of toothpaste.