pasta brain
I must have been hungry because I dreamed about spaghetti again. Great big pot of spaghetti, boiling on the stove.
Slowly I stirred the spaghetti in the pot. Slowly it boiled. Gradually the spaghetti absorbed all the water and congealed into a quivering, pulsing pasta-brain.
The pasta-brain was like some kind of brain-wave magnet. I could feel it pulling at my consciousness. Before long it was thinking all my thoughts for me.
The pasta-brain was thinking: "Add some cayenne pepper. Do not eat me. Place me on the middle of the highway at midnight tonight."