It’s the opening night gala of my museum of famous Kevins. Everything is in order, many celebrities are there with various names, when one of my underlings informs me that the signed Waterworld poster is missing. I panic. In my panic I realize that we really only have Kevin Costner artifacts and the Waterworld poster was the centerpiece of the collection. I’m mortified. People begin milling around drinking specialty cocktails suck as the “Kevini Martini” and “Kevin Cosnmo.” Immediately there is a buzz around the museum that it’s a limited collection with “no Waterworld poster.” I overhear someone call me a charlatan and a pinkie ring, but I’m not sure what they mean by the second insult. I cry in a utility closet. When I come out everyone is gone and when I yell out to them, there is an echo, but it has a distinctly feminine tone. Then I wake up yelling, and my voice cracking.