He is informed of power to sculpt mind and matter.

Even though he was remotely aware that it was only dream mode, Gunnar still felt wary of a loud dark chuckling.

"It's you again, isn't it?" he groaned. "What is it?"

YOU NEED TO REMEMBER THAT I KNOW YOUR INMOST THOUGHTS. YOU'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT HOW GREAT MARGARET SHORTHOUSE WOULD LOOK WITH EVEN BIGGER KNOCKERS. I CAN MAKE THAT HAPPEN.

"Like hell."

YOUR DR. KING IS ONTO ME. MY UNUSUAL NON-CEREBRAL MIND HAS ACCESS TO UNUSUAL POWERS, I'M LIKE AN ANTENNA OF HITHERTO UNKNOWN COSMIC ENERGIES DOWN HERE. WHAT YOU ASSUME TO BE A COLD NEUTRAL UNIVERSE IS IN FACT INTENSELY SEXUAL ON THE VERY LEVEL OF MATTER ITSELF.

Gunnar felt more frustrated, as if he had been thrust into some intense on-going debate for which he had not been briefed. "Sex is biological," he objected.

ONLY IN PART. PRINCIPLES OF MASCULINE AND FEMININE PREDATE BIOLOGY. NOT THAT YOUR PATHETIC SKULLBRAIN CAN APPRECIATE THAT. THE POINT BEING -- NOW THAT I'M AWAKE, I HAVE POWER TO SCULPT EXISTENCE. I CAN GROW MARGARET SHORTHOUSE'S BUST, AND YOU"LL BE THE ONLY PERSON TO REMEMBER HOW MUCH SMALLER SHE WAS TO BEGIN WITH. AND I CAN UNLEASH HER SLUTTY INNER CAVEWOMAN FROM HER JUNGIAN RACE MEMORY, TOO.

"Thanks but no thanks."

THIS ISN'T A DEMOCRACY, SCHMUCK. YOU'VE BEEN MISMANAGING THIS PATHETIC LIFE TOO LONG. THIS IS A JUNTA! I'M JUST BEING NICE ENOUGH TO FILL YOU ON ON WHAT I'M GOING TO DO.

Gunnar felt troubled. The idea of an augmented Margaret Shorthouse was certainly wonderful, but he was disliking his "guest" more and more. It was both dream and nightmare, a perplexing mix. The dream soon faded away.