I’m taller than usual, at least 2 inches. Everyone notices, but no one is saying anything. It’s driving me insane. I can tell they’re wondering, staring, judging. Their whispers are most assuredly “is he wearing lifts?” and “he’s definitely taller, he’s on steroids fo sho, look at that giraffe lookin’ honkey” It feels like a conspiracy. For whatever reason I don’t want to bring it up. I attend a high school musical, it’s an adaptation of Brecht’s “Three Penny Opera” but they’ve taken out the musical sections and replaced them with Boyz II Men songs sang acapella. It’s avant-garde, ambitious, and nauseating. I vomit, buy my vomit is Pepto Bismol and so I drink some barf afterwards to settle my stomach. For whatever reason I don’t find this disgusting. A young toddler is staring at me, watching all of this, and I can tell he wants to fight. I stare him down and he eventually looks away, when he turns back he has my father’s face. I immediately feel like a disappointment and I slink away to the bathroom, which is actually the playboy mansion. Hugh is there but he’s young, he looks about 70. I congratulate him on his sale of playboy and he dies in my arms whispering “it was a pretty cool life, but very empty.” I wake up suddenly, feeling around my head for bunny ears.