Let's write a book :)

[WanderingOak]

"Careful now, please!" the Doctor cautioned.

"Right now we are inside your mind, where thoughts are most definitely things. A wayward thought in the wrong direction could be disasterous. Thinking about getting drunk would make you drunk in the real world. Thoughts of death could kill either one of us."

Sue Ellen changed back into Becky, but her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes lacked focus. "Oops," she muttered. "I'll have a hard time getting to work if I look the way I feel. Can I think myself sober?"

"It depends on how strong your mind is and how well you can focus."

"I hope I can do it, because I feel pretty loaded right now," Becky giggled, as she tried to pick up the cat. Unfortunately, the cat wasn't quite there, so it passed right through her hands.

[CoolBee]

Suddenly, and without warning, a legion of Roman cavalry came thundering through the bathroom on horseback. "Hold the line!" shouted their leader "Hold the line".

[WanderingOak]

"Focus!" cried Dr. Cavor. "This is your mind, these are your thoughts." He sprouted octopus tentacles out of his ears, which turned into peach tree branches, ripe with fruit. Becky began giggling so hard she almost fell over. The Roman soldiers suddenly became Basset Hounds, while their steeds metamorphosed into Great Danes. Doubling over with laughter, Becky wiped tears of mirth from her eyes, and tried her best to concentrate. The baying of hounds was deafening, but slowly it became quieter, until it was just her and the Doctor again, sans foliage.

"That's better," Becky laughed weakly.

[CoolBee]

"Someone's been at the Wacky Baccy" called the cat morphing in to the old newstand vendor she passed by every morning on her way to work, "Or something worse.." morphing back into a cat.

[this is fun]

'Oh my dear God of Vibrational Frequency, this is all to much for 7 am in the morning!!!'
' I shouldn't have drunk so much last night at the party....'

'Becky, still in there? Hurry up? Santa Claus is waiting outside, it's his turn to drive you all to work...' her husband's voice came from the other side of the door.

'Right, work. In a minute!' she said.

[WanderingOak]

"You have a remarkably disciplined mind for one so young," The Doctor commented, slowly starting to fade to naught but a mustache.

"Most people would take hours to recover from wild thoughts, if they ever did. I will see you this evening," the Mustache called, just before vanishing. The cat faded to improbability, then winked out as well.

"I guess I'm back to normal, whatever that means", Becky muttered, splashing water on her face and drying off. She then ran into the bedroom to find her work clothes.

"Santa Claus," she grumbled, getting dressed. "That fat old hairy troglodyte is a sexual harassment case waiting to happen." Then again, she thought to herself, after her experiences this morning and last night, she could probably handle just about anything, including Christopher Kringle, or Santa, as everybody called him.

[javamannen2]

Christopher Kartan Ringle (a.k.a. Chris K. Ringle, Kris Kringle, ...) often in his younger years cursed his parents Gustav and Ella Ringle for unintentionally choosing such a mockable name for their only son. But over the years he had come to peace with his own name. To his friends he was now simply Santa.

[WanderingOak]

Becky gave her husband a peck on the cheek as she ran out the door to the waiting carpool. Sure enough, 'Santa' was in the driver's seat, leering at her through the window. He even looked like the 'jolly old elf', but he was also an insufferable cad. Fortunately, the other front seat was taken, so she didn't have to sit next to him. She didn't know from direct experience, but she was told that he was 'handsy'. After quick 'Good Mornings' to Santa, Roger, and Melissa, her fellow carpoolers, they puled away from the curb and merged with traffic.

"Good morning yourself, sweet-cheeks", Santa called back to her.
Becky had to resist the urge to dope-slap the driver. Melissa just rolled her eyes while Roger began intensely studying the paint job of a hot rod Chevy in the next lane. Becky did a double take as they passed the souped-up '57 Bel-Air. It's paint was polished to a mirror shine, and in the reflection of her car, she could see a winged monkey on the roof. Nobody else on the road was reacting to the apparition, so she could only assume that she was the only one who could see it. She spent the rest of the drive to work in silent thought, completely oblivious to the come-ons from the driver.

[this is fun]

The drive to work took much longer than expected. Then she noticed that everyone else was moving in slow motion, the car passengers, cars on the street, clouds in the sky. Her mind was racing 'Oh, no, not again. Can't this day be just normal?''. Am I going crazy?''

[WanderingOak]

While the ride may have seemed like it took forever, it was really just the crass dialogue from the driver.

"Hey hot momma, you want to ride my sleigh?" he called out to another driver stopped at a light. The woman reached for her pepper spray, but the light changed too quickly. Becky was lost in thought, while both Roger and Melissa were ready to gag Santa's mouth shut by the time they got to work.

When Becky got out of the car, she didn't see any monkeys, winged or otherwise.

[this is fun]

What she did see was her reflection in the shopping window in front of her.
She could see the air around her body rippling like water, pulsating and changing shape.
After this morning nothing surprised her though. ''Oh please, give it a rest will ya, whatever you are.'' she said and walked into the building.

[WanderingOak]

She saw the hint of a mustache out of the corner of one eye as she walked into the lobby, but when the turned to look directly at it, there was nothing. A semi-audible purr came from near her feet, and she felt a cat rub up against her. Of course when she looked down, there was no cat visible, Cheshire or Schrodinger.

Either I'm tripping out, or something bizarre is going on, she thought as she badged past security and got in line for the elevator. Santa walked past her and off to the loading dock. Once he was on the clock, he was polite, professional and a valuable asset to the company, running the loading dock like a finely tuned Swiss watch. It was a bit of a Jekyll-Hyde split, comparing Santa's work behavior to his off the clock antics.

[this is fun]

She walked into her office. It was a chocolate factory. These days you needed only one person to operate the machinery. The chocolates were of all shapes and sizes: flying monkeys, mustaches, dragons, trees, hearts, smiles etc.
She loved her job! But couldn't remember how and when she had started to work here.

[WanderingOak]

Heady chocolate fumes filled the air and fogged her mind as she relieved the night-chocolatier. The first thought that crossed her mind when her shift began was a Homer Simpsonesque "Mmmmmmm, Chocolate!!!!!" The aroma was so overpowering that she couldn't think about anything else but making confections all day long. She worked completely through lunch, and before she knew it, Elizabeth, her relief had arrived.

Becky helped herself to a few chocolate mustaches from the seconds bin, as she clocked out and went down to the garage to meet up with her carpool. For some reason, the chocolate press got the caramel filling wrong for about half a dozen chocolate mustaches, making it way too thick. She tried one, but the filling was far too sticky for her to eat.

"How about some sugar, sugar?" Santa laughed, as she approached him waiting by his car. She gave him the rest of the candy as she got into the back seat. The ride home was in blissful silence, as the caramel nearly glued Santa's mouth shut. There were hints of mustaches, monkeys, and cats around her, but nothing definite. By the time she made it home, she was ravenous, having been too distracted to eat breakfast or lunch.

Fortunately, her husband Ted was waiting for her when she came in the door. He was a gourmet chef who had his own catering business, so there was no shortage of food in the house.