It’s like a Twilight Zone episode with Jack Kluggman. I’m watching him in this giant tunnel made of Spam. He’s walking thru it while a narrative voice is speaking. I begin to think that this may be an artery or some other tube in the human body, but why would it be made of Spam? Then, I’m standing at a counter in a little kiosk or caravan. A man is showing us that all food is made from Spam, not matter what it looks like. He has a piece of white meat, about the side of a chicken and cuts off a piece. It’s flaky and juicy and he coughs on it. Then he takes a piece and wipes it in some juices and hands it to the guy next to me for him to eat. He claims it’s all made of Spam, and no one would ever know the difference.

I’m at a childhood friend’s house. He tells me he’s going to make popcorn. I’m suddenly riding down the street on a bicycle into a lot of traffic. I realize that there’s way too much traffic in the direction that I’m going resisting my progress so I decide to turn around. I do and get out ahead of the traffic but I’m riding a different bicycle. This bike’s bars are crooked and they’re off center. I stop and make a feeble effort to fix them which doesn’t work, but it’s good enough to get back to my friend’s house. When I get there, it’s Kris’ house. I’m inside and start to tell my friend, which isn’t Kris, about the bicycle. He’s dropped the popcorn into a fryer. Rather than them being small kernels, they’re little yellow balls. I say those look like little nuggets and he’s like, “Yup.” We walk into the room where the TV is playing. There’s a show on. His mother is saying hi to me. She really likes me. I sit in the back so I don’t block her view.