Animal Costume Makeover
I'm in some kind of big department store, except that rather than being all clinical and smooth surfaced, everything has been made to have this 'hip' rustic feel. The roof is high, its beams exposed like an open-plan barn, and the shelves and stalls are all made of rough hewn pallets. None of it is genuine, though, it's all carefully engineered to look that way, in the same way jeans are made to look worn.
Anyway, I'm in this place along with my regular group of friends because we're all being filmed as part of some 'Makeover' TV show. The host of the programme is this attractive blonde girl who is over by the wall telling the camera and lighting crew the best place to set up.
The idea of the show, like so many doing the rounds on TV right now, is that we're all given new clothes and haircuts and generally made over so we look like the homogenized masses.
As I'm taking my jacket off, I realise that I'm wearing my Rabbit Suit underneath and feel like a complete idiot, since I was supposed to arrive on the set wearing my normal, everyday clothes. "Christ, how could I be so dumb!?", I'm thinking when, to my saving grace, I realise that the production crew are handing out animal suits to everyone and that apparently this is the special 'Animal Costume' edition of the programme.
Unfortunately, though, they won't let me wear my Rabbit Suit and, instead, they're trying to force me to wear this gorilla costume, which is really nothing more than a bin-bag with arm holes and a plastic monkey mask. I make a real fuss and say that this is completely unacceptable and that the only compromise I am willing to make, is that I will tuck in the hood and ears of my bunny suit and perhaps wear a horses head over the top instead.
This, they say, is not the 'look' they were going for.
I completely blow a fuse and storm off set shouting "IF ANYONE WANTS ME, I'LL BE DRIVING MY CAR!" In the car park, I climb into a black estate and start the engine. It's a reoccuring theme in my dreams that I drive cars, despite the fact I can't drive in real life - although, to be fair, I can't drive in my dreams either. I often scrape into posts and other obstacles and am always really wary of being caught by the police, since I have neither liscence or insurance.
On this occassion, though, fueled by my rage at being told to remove my Rabbit Suit, I drive surprisingly well. I navigate my way to a long road where I am able to pick up speed and, still wearing the bunny suit, I drive off into the distance, leaving the bright lights and cameras far behind.
I'm in some kind of big department store, except that rather than being all clinical and smooth surfaced, everything has been made to have this 'hip' rustic feel. The roof is high, its beams exposed like an open-plan barn, and the shelves and stalls are all made of rough hewn pallets. None of it is genuine, though, it's all carefully engineered to look that way, in the same way jeans are made to look worn.
Anyway, I'm in this place along with my regular group of friends because we're all being filmed as part of some 'Makeover' TV show. The host of the programme is this attractive blonde girl who is over by the wall telling the camera and lighting crew the best place to set up.
The idea of the show, like so many doing the rounds on TV right now, is that we're all given new clothes and haircuts and generally made over so we look like the homogenized masses.
As I'm taking my jacket off, I realise that I'm wearing my Rabbit Suit underneath and feel like a complete idiot, since I was supposed to arrive on the set wearing my normal, everyday clothes. "Christ, how could I be so dumb!?", I'm thinking when, to my saving grace, I realise that the production crew are handing out animal suits to everyone and that apparently this is the special 'Animal Costume' edition of the programme.
Unfortunately, though, they won't let me wear my Rabbit Suit and, instead, they're trying to force me to wear this gorilla costume, which is really nothing more than a bin-bag with arm holes and a plastic monkey mask. I make a real fuss and say that this is completely unacceptable and that the only compromise I am willing to make, is that I will tuck in the hood and ears of my bunny suit and perhaps wear a horses head over the top instead.
This, they say, is not the 'look' they were going for.
I completely blow a fuse and storm off set shouting "IF ANYONE WANTS ME, I'LL BE DRIVING MY CAR!" In the car park, I climb into a black estate and start the engine. It's a reoccuring theme in my dreams that I drive cars, despite the fact I can't drive in real life - although, to be fair, I can't drive in my dreams either. I often scrape into posts and other obstacles and am always really wary of being caught by the police, since I have neither liscence or insurance.
On this occassion, though, fueled by my rage at being told to remove my Rabbit Suit, I drive surprisingly well. I navigate my way to a long road where I am able to pick up speed and, still wearing the bunny suit, I drive off into the distance, leaving the bright lights and cameras far behind.
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