I see the Eiffel Tower in the middle of a periwinkle-colored thunderstorm. I scurry up there and find President Franklin D. Roosevelt eating scrambled eggs with Robert Downey, Jr., who’s drinking peach-flavored Pepsi. On a slightly raised stage, Frank Sinatra finishes a song, “Volare, oh, oh.”

Roosevelt notices me, “Hola, cómo estás?” Downey, Jr. looks past me. “Hey!” he yells. I turn and see 49,768,457 large red dragons. A big great white shark from Lake Michigan throws a black sandal at it.

“Hi, Dominic.” The waiter, Caroline, says.

“Hi. Didn’t you want to be a World War II professor?” I ask her.

“That’s cap.” She shakes her head. “That was the penultimate choice. This was the final one.”