So this week I’m reading Pale Queen Rising, by A.R. Kahler, in which an assassin from Faerie (who, despite being from Faerie, is not actually of Faerie) is charged by Queen Mab with finding out who is skimming off the top of her harvest of Dream. Which is, apparently, a little bit like skimming meth from Heisenberg. If you’re going to do it, do not get caught.
Large influxes of Dream are relatively easy to find, and just as easy to foretell. Every major concert, every movie theatre, and even some of the less pretentious art openings are assured Dream generators.
Of course every time one of the characters says or mentions Dream, I immediately think of this fellow:
I didn’t think I was a huge fan of “The Sandman” comic but perhaps I was wrong … And speaking of dreaming a little dream, (very) slow progress on Television Man continues. Why slow? You get three guesses, and the first two don’t count.
“Um, thanks,” Bob said. “So can you tell if the Count has been here?”
“I don’t think so. He would have taken the body with him.”
“Taken it? What for?”
“How should I know? Eat it, put it in his fridge, make a lamp out of it, whatever. But he doesn’t leave his special friends lying around where the hoi polloi might find them.”
That Bob! Always getting into some kind of mischief. Did you file your guesses yet as to why Television Man is not moving along very quickly?
Viscosity 