Last night I dreamed that there were extra doors in my house, and none of them were secure. I’d lock the locks at night but this guy kept getting in somehow. One morning I found that he had rigged up this machine on my kitchen counter that turned lemons into lemonade (GGRRROOOAN). He was short and mustachioed (universal symbol for evil, duh) and I told him to stay out, but he wouldn’t. The doors just wouldn’t close all the way. I recruited his two large, sympathetic sons to help me reason with him, and they tried, but he just kept coming back and he yelled at me for throwing out his lemonade.