I dreamed I was in a muppet movie. I was a detective trying to figure out who was trying to sink the pirate ship we were sailing around the Caribbean. Miss Piggy and Janice were mermaids so I sent them out on underwater reconnaissance, and to interrogate any sailors they might come across.
I went below decks to talk with our passengers, Drs. Gregory House and Lisa Cuddy. House was in the theater, ensconced in one of the plush red velvet chairs. He supposed to be writing his regular editorial column for the New York Times, and Cuddy was trying to get him to be more persuasive and less insulting. The editor came out of his office to put in his two cents. House launched into a compelling, if vitriolic, rant, and the editor said THAT was why he hired him, to write like that, not just to castigate people who agreed with the opposing view without offering any supporting points for his own. I decided that, while we didn't know WHO was trying to sink us, House might be the reason WHY.
The mermaids were back by then, and I reviewed video footage from their hidden cameras. I could see the satiny white sand of the seafood, and the turquoise water all around, and, scattered here and there, bits of explosive devices and shipwreck debris. This gave me the clues I needed to determine, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that the culprit was...
A pair of black, knee-high, trouser socks. And then I woke up.
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