In A Dream: Walgreen's Version Of Beetlejuice

I don't normally write. Nor do I post non-visual things here.  However, now that I've finally replaced my laptop, I can capture my dreams fresh and lazily while my eyes are still closed and I lie in bed. Yes, we all hate hearing about people's dreams--but read it anyway:

The scene is first person, myself watching “Beetlejuice” at the bar of Gladstone Street Pizza, where there is no TV in real life. The movie is just beginning, which then becomes fullscreen:

A male narrator's voice is heard over an aerial pan of a suburban neighborhood, a diagonal view of one small wooden house and one larger brick one.  They are both one-story, but the larger one hovers over two garages. The narrator explains that his family had swapped houses with the neighbors since they kept having kids. He hinted at a subtle point of contention regarding the confusion caused by the neighbors' last-born pair of kids being given the same first names as he and his sister.

It then pans to the mom and dad emerging from their champagne colored luxury vehicle, with a ramp coming out and everyone parading out of the vehicle after them. The narrator describes each one, first the human children who are descriptionless and inconsequential, but are quickly followed by the important brand of hypoallergenic dog. She comes out on a motorized skateboard and has breast implants. They are furry modest breasts. There’s a second dog, more of a terrier, also on a motorized board and had “the best calves on a dog despite its inability to walk” according to the narrator.  Apparently he had implants, too.

Then we see a clip of the human family on an unidentifiable game-show. The narrator describes boring characteristics of his neighbors, but I am absently watching the movie, so I can’t remember what he says about them.  They are in front of a velvet cornflower-crayon colored curtain, posing and attempting to do a classic nineties “jump up and have the camera freeze on a shot of everyone in the air and looking great” but it fails fabulously and they are mid-smile and squatting instead.  Mom looks the most awkward, but is the only person with any remarkable features, resembling Sarah Silverman.

There is suddenly a flash of another scene from the middle of the movie. Lidia (a Walgreen's version, not Winona Ryder) is in a dark kitchen, trying to avoid dancing at a party of ghouls.  She’s cornered by a looming male figure: a smelly, overbearing angel. In this world, angels are filled with straw.  The angel doesn’t resemble the archetype—it looks like Lux Interior in an ill-fitting tuxedo.  Our heroine finally gets annoyed by his odor and unremarkable dancing and, squinting, pulls handfuls of straw out of the Lux-alike's abdomen.  A second angel, also very unlike the archetype, is roughly two feet tall, can float and is wearing what would annoy you if you saw someone in public dressed up as a circus performer for no good reason. He solemnly snatches pathetically small piles of straw in trips, floating in the style of a bumble-bee to stuff back into the Lux-alike who is lying dramatically on his back like Goya etched him.  The floating angel shakes his head disapprovingly at Lidia without looking at her directly and mutters in a tiny voice “so naughty, so naughty” as he takes endless trips stuffing his friend.

Before I forget, it then returns to first-person.  A guy at the bar leans over to explain to me why the family’s failed freeze frame is funny.