I dreamed I tried to join a pirate crew. They wouldn’t take me because I was a centaur. I tried to point out that I had many sterling talents and they shouldn’t discriminate against me because I had an extra set of legs–they pointed out, fairly enough, that I was not going to be any good in the rigging. “But I can swim!” I said. They were unimpressed. Then somehow we all wound up in the water, and there was an elk wandering around who could walk on water. Which was a neat trick, anyway, although they still wouldn’t let me be a pirate.
Then I somehow wound up in a hillbilly version of Disneyland, run by Nazis, trying to get to the tiger enclosure so that I could do something or other. (I had two tiger cubs in my backpack, so it was probably related to that.) Sadly, the Nazis foiled my attempt, whatever it was. Those bastards. Their leader was the German prince from the last episode of Blackadder II. It was a surreal little moment.
Then I woke up and thought something like “The bears aren’t done yet!” which made no particular sense. But centaur pirates would still be cool, damnit. You could get so many peglegs, they’d KNOW you were a badass.