I was a worker who wrote the software that Pixar and Disney used for making animated movies. Even though I'd quit my job, I was allowed to visit because my mother still worked there. We were leaving the offices and driving on a street labeled "The Valley Freeway".
me: "I'd like you to get me a copy of the tools I wrote while I was there. You can find them on the main server."
mom: "No, that's a bad idea for many reasons. First of all, there are laws and we'll both get punished if anyone finds out. Secondly, you shouldn't be returning to that kind of work. You've made a lot of progress since your nervous breakdown, and you should try something less stressful. Like modeling."
mom: "Yes, I heard on NPR they are looking for models to star in advertisements. So I'm taking you to an audition."
me: "I refuse!"
Realizing that this was a dream scenario, I noticed I had a few pieces of information that might identify a real person in the real world. As I asked questions, this "Mom" would riffle through stacks of papers.
me: "What's your birthday?"
mom: "Hold on...I haven't quite figured that out yet."
me: "Well, what's my birthday?"
She suddenly took on a kind of demonic voice, as if she were channeling a fairly evil mother who was trying to bully her child into being an ad model.
mom: "Your birthday is the 14th of September."
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