Dead tired

You are exhausted from "meeting the tenants". You don't think you've ever had that much sex in one day and never with three different women. You once had sex with two different girls in a weekend at college, but they each found out about the other and both dumped you. You take the elevator down to the basement and enter your small apartment. You flop down on the bed and fall fast asleep.

You wake up and there are three women crawling on your bed. They descend on you and start kissing you all over, cheeks, lips, chest, nipples, belly, cock, everywhere. They hold you down while they each impale themselves on your stiff member, but they never let you come. Suddenly they all disappear out of the room.

In your next dream, Frank Krauss is chasing you with a shotgun. He fires round after round at you, but you just feel the sting of a few pellets. You duck into the nearest store, which is a barbershop, and dash out the back door. You find yourself in a large poker game in the back room with everyone, even a few women, smoking big, fat cigars. As you run past, you see one male player sticking an unlit cigar into the cunt of one of the girls. He then lifts it to his nose and sniffs. You run out the back door and into a crowded street in some Third World country with decrepid beggars, elephants, religious parades, and lots of noise. A few seconds later, in front of you, Krauss bursts out of a different door than you exited by. He raises a blunderbuss to point straight at your head.

You wake up for real this time and find it is past seven in the evening. You make some canned chili, get stoned, and watch reruns of M.A.S.H and Buffy for a couple hours. You smoke some more grass and settle in to watch The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. You laugh your ass off whenever Eli Wallach is on the screen. You fall asleep after Clint shoots the rope at the end.