I told you not to eat that

So last night I gave myself the mini-spa treatment. I shaved, I tweezed, I exfoliated. I colored my hair. I did some godawful damage to my facial skin. I think they tell you not to scrub after a chemical peel, and if they don't, they should. I did a pedicure. I ate a burrito. I went to bed.
Somewhere between all the chemicals on me, and the refried beans in me, I had a weird dream. No, this one isn't prophetic, or even loosly grounded in any sense of reality. (This, after I've come to grips that Catherine's mother will not be twirling with a high school marching band anytime soon).
I was in England, visiting some very good friends of mine whom I've never met. It was raining, of course, and we were awaiting "the big event", such as a wedding or something. They lived in this sprawling mansion, yet the front porch looked suspiciously like the one at my brother's old house, complete with a mortorcycle covered in a tattered blue tarp, and various car engine parts strewn about. I had been wandering the grounds, and found myself towards the rear of the property, lush green with rolling hills and large, ancient trees towering overhead. In the distance, I saw a gathering of an unusual sort of critter... what appeared to be a typical Pennsylvania groundhog sat up and hopped, like a kangaroo. These smallish creatures must be a type of European Wallaby, I thought. How odd! As I got closer, I noticed one of them was sporting a sports drink bottle, complete with nylon carrying pouch and neck strap. I wondered why he didn't just keep it in his pouch. As I turned to leave, the animal with the bottle scurried up next to me, and asked, "Where're ya off to, mate?" This wasn't a groundhog OR a wallaby! It was a capybara! That hopped! And walked upright! And was talking to me!
I immediately noticed that the water-bottle-on-a-rope belonged to The Dude of the house, and suggested we return it post-haste. The capybara was in agreement. "I meant no harm," said he. We sludged through the now-swamplike yard (because it never stopped raining) towards the home. I rang the bell and asked to speak to Pru, who was getting ready for her evening of elegant show-offery. Of course, she was too busy to attend to me and my needs, but The Dude came to the door. I explained how I had located his water bottle, and asked if my new friend could attend this evening's festivities as well, because he was kind enough to be honest and return the bottle, and besides that, he spoke perfect english. We agreed it would be fine. But he could only have one plate of salad because he was exceeding the guest list and the amount of food that had been prepared.
I awoke to a screeching alarm telling me it was time to get up for work this morning. I never got to see how it all turned out. Damn.