Tuxn Dog, still in her tuxedo, found herself suddenly gripping the steering wheel of a gleaming white limousine. It stretched on forever, looking more like a sleek, stretched-out hotdog on wheels than a car. Her paws barely touched the pedals, but somehow, she was managing to drive. She adjusted her chauffeur cap (which had materialized on her head, as things do in dreams) and peered over the dash, muttering to herself, “Where am I even going? And WHO is back there?”
A faint glow emanated from behind the divider, and Tuxn could sense an eerie yet curious presence. She flipped a button and the divider whirred down, revealing… a ghostly figure swaddled in a fluffy bathrobe and wearing cucumber slices over their eyes. It was Elvis. Yes, that Elvis, munching on a peanut butter and banana sandwich.
“Hey pup,” Elvis drawled, in a voice that somehow sounded like peanut butter. “Take me to Graceland… but make a detour through the moon. I haven’t seen it up close in a while.” Tuxn blinked, gave her best “I guess we’re going to the moon now” sigh, and stomped on the gas.
In the blink of an eye, the limo rocketed through the stratosphere, soaring past a bewildered flock of geese in formation. Within minutes, they touched down on the moon, the limo’s wheels kicking up clouds of lunar dust. Elvis slipped out the back and started doing the moonwalk—literally—while humming “Blue Suede Shoes.” Tuxn rolled her eyes, but secretly she was enjoying the show.
Before she could finish barking a laugh, the scene shifted. They were suddenly driving down a bustling Tokyo street. Elvis was gone, and in his place sat a giant cat in a suit, clutching a briefcase filled with sushi. The cat leaned forward, whispering in a gravelly voice, “Tuxn, my good driver, the sushi industry is under attack by… giant robotic crabs! We must reach the docks before they take over!”
Tuxn didn’t even question it—because dreams, right?—and gunned the limo through neon-lit alleys, narrowly dodging noodle carts and sumo wrestlers. They reached the docks just in time for the cat to leap out and face off with a crab the size of a small apartment building. He meowed dramatically and threw his briefcase at it, but Tuxn didn’t stick around to see what happened next.
Poof! The scene changed again. This time, they were on a sprawling beach, waves crashing gently against the shore. Tuxn looked in the rearview mirror and saw… a pirate, no, wait… two pirates! One was a tiny chihuahua in a pirate hat, while the other was an ancient parrot wearing a monocle and a velvet cloak.
“Yarr, we’re on a quest for buried treasure!” squawked the parrot. “Drive us to the X that marks the spot, doggie!”
The chihuahua chimed in, “And step on it, lass, or ye’ll walk the plank!”
Tuxn floored it, and the limo skidded across the sand, transforming into a sleek speedboat as it hit the waves. They zoomed toward a distant island, and just as Tuxn was about to ask how the limo turned into a boat, the chihuahua handed her a map that looked suspiciously like a takeout menu. “Aye, we’ve reached the island of eternal pizza toppings!” the parrot cawed. They jumped out, and she heard them arguing over whether pineapple belongs on pizza as they disappeared into the palm trees.
But the dream wasn’t done with her yet. Now, she was navigating the limo down a cobblestone street in Paris. The Eiffel Tower loomed above them, and in the back seat lounged a llama wearing a beret and a pencil mustache. He sipped espresso from a tiny cup, pausing only to give her a sultry wink.
“Darling, you must take me to ze art exhibit,” the llama declared with dramatic flair. “My portrait is featured, and I cannot be late!”
Tuxn snorted, resisting the urge to laugh as she sped down the Parisian roads. As they arrived at the art gallery, she watched the llama strut in, stopping to admire a painting of… itself. “Ah, magnifique!” it exclaimed. But before she could roll her eyes too hard, the scene shifted again.
Suddenly, the limo was cruising through the clouds, and Tuxn glanced back to see her final passenger: a tiny alien in a sequined jumpsuit, holding a sign that said, “Take me to your leader.”
“I hope you know, buddy, that I’m just the driver,” Tuxn muttered. The alien shrugged and handed her a little intergalactic map with Earth’s coordinates circled, and she just shook her head, revving the engine.
But just as she prepared to rocket back down to Earth, she woke up, panting slightly, still on her bed at home. She looked around, wondering if she’d ever see that bathrobed Elvis or mustachioed llama again. But as she settled back down to sleep, she couldn’t help but smirk—after all, who knows what dreams would come tomorrow?
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