I was with a girl on a bed, watching some movie that was about a guy named Madu. He was an inspirational guy who was trying to help a little league team. The coach of the team was the father of one of the players, and looked a lot like Drew Carey. It had grotesque special effects on their faces, for instance a black man whose nose had been removed and given a chin that looked like a butt.
It seemed to be a musical, and thematic in the film were scenes of these overweight people stripping and showering. During the songs they'd do more grotesque facial manipulations, and sing about how much you (the viewer?) stink such that even if you put your feet in lava they'd still smell.
me: "Wow. They sure sing a lot about lava not being able to cure the problem of smelling bad. Methinks they exaggerate."
We got up and were doing some interior decorating, and other people came in to offer suggestions.
guy: "Why don't you paint that Sprite can?"
The girl placed a giant canvas on the wall and began painting, quickly and accurately. It was not a sprite can but just the logo.
I have personally never liked the "lymon" but now that I look closer it's not that terrible:
...part lemon, part lime, part letter "S". Still wouldn't want it on a giant canvas on the wall of my room.
me: "It's amazing you can do that and have it look so precise without doing a pencil sketch first."
guy: "Yeah, wow."
Internally, I chastised myself for not checking the color coordination beforehand. But I looked around the room and noticed the walls were already yellow, green, and white.
I wondered if the guy who suggested drawing the Sprite can had already taken stock of that. Or perhaps the can was being used as a color reference in the first place to pick the colors of paint.
When I turned back to look at the painting, it had little wavy black marks on it.
me: "Oh no, the paint got messed up."
girl: "That's intentional, step back and look."
I stepped back and looked, and saw she had somehow kept it as the sprite logo (sort of) but was doing an impressionistic layer so that it was a meadow and a mountain. I watched as the painting began to evolve and wander rapidly through several pieces--flooding me with transitions and images of cartoonish faces of women with wild hair.
It was really good art, actually. I'd enjoy seeing it in a gallery. It no longer had elements of the original Sprite logo, but was on the same wall on the same size canvas.
me: "Am I to believe that I jumped forward past the passage of time, like fast-forward on a VCR?"
guy: "Yes. You skipped ahead in time."
me: "Okay, this is what I'm talking about. That's not possible and why do I keep ending up in situations where this happens but no one can explain it?"
Another short bald guy, who had light brown skin, came forward and threatened me. Not with any weapons, but he pushed me to the ground.
bald guy: "I'm gonna beat you up."
me: "Why would you WANT to do that? Don't you want to talk to me? Why can't you like me? You could love me!"
I grabbed him and started kissing him, and then tried to use dream-telekinesis to morph him into an attractive girl. The combat vanished and turned into the sensation of making out with no visual feedback. Seemed to go well until I felt a very hairy underarm, and decided to give up on the effort and awaken.
This is not something I usually try, as I believe it negates any reality the dream signal might contain and turns it into little more than one's own imagination and memory. I gave it a shot because this was a rare situation of being able to face off against a hostile force in a seemingly stable scenario.
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