Dream Theater: Stone Cold Dennis Franz

Last night, I dreamed a disheveled (not necessarily a redundancy; he had been beaten) Dennis Franz, Mike, and I were in some abandoned warehouse. Franz--I am guessing NYPD Blue-era version--was manic after having freed himself from captivity.

He started raving about how they had gotten his friend, and now HE was gonna get THEM, starting with the other guy in the room with us. I have no idea who it was--someone I know? Someone Franz knows? TV's Mr. Belvedere, Christopher Hewitt?

Well, I am glad I don't know because Franz picked up a cinderblock and, "off camera," at least, smashed the other guy with it. What were Mike and I doing? We weren't podcasting, I can tell you that. I think Dennis--hey, at this point, we're on a first-name basis--saw our unease because he said to us, "They do it on TV; we can do it here."

Yes, that was the capper and the end of the dream.

They do it on TV; we can do it here.

Should The Tao of Franz be our new guiding principle?