Dream: I was forced against my will to converse with Tom Hardy in a small room. This was simply discommodious, as I've neither any enmity against nor desire to meet him. Then I felt a certain contrition for a surety that no few fans would be thrilled to be in my position. My desideratum was to consort with Tom Noonan in an adjoining room, but he couldn't see or hear me as he manipulated strange puppets....
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....before a rapt audience of engorged children. Moreover, I could distantly hear Ives's "Emerson" Concerto as shirtless Hardy droned on and on, recounting the provenance of each tattoo in his dermal array.
hhahAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! :D engorged children?! D:
Yeah, they were clearly crapulent and ready to blow.