I really wish I had energy to clean my filthy room.

A mysterious, wallpaper-desroying green gas (emitted by the leftover pizza, robot, Rubik's cube, and dirty laundry) poisoned Brian as he lay on the couch dreaming about a dark, squiggly, broomless world where only one of the four rectangles was half-full.

In my dream I threw a red box into a pile of trash while a fat, hideous creature held a green bowling ball.

I threw a box of spam into the dumpster hoping it would satisfy the orange monster's appetite.

No need to panic about lurking monsters when you have SPAM to defeat it with!