I think your dream dad may be right. We need a biscuit R&D fund.

This 'arrest' involved a man burying me up to my neck in sand, informing me it was illegal for me to dig myself out, and then leaving.

Child logic

... Your dreams having musical numbers is the least surprising thing.

It was proud of me for recycling.

Good priorities!

'Is my technique okay?' I asked the players, still battling against them as I spoke. The floor around me was littered with unconscious, paint-spattered young men. 'Or am I too mean?'

This feels like asking for work feedback, lol