Dream CXLVI

I was staying at the home of a well known Hollywood actress, a big star from the 1950's and 60's.  She had seen an ad on television for a small box, about the size of a personal stereo, that held anywhere from 46 to 61 movies, and she wanted me to go out and get one for her.  She didn't say, but I got the impression that she hoped some of her own movies would be included.

I told her that the movies included were probably in the public domain and thus not of very good quality, especially considering that the price for the box--around $10--seemed too low.  But she insisted, and I went to the store and purchased one.

It was roughly the size of a small shoebox, and came with a brief set of instructions telling how to hook it up to one's television.  The audio was only through a small headphone port which couldn't be connected either to the television or to a stereo, so one had to listen through headphones.

I hooked everything up and she was delighted.  The movies proved to be rather dismal, in both production and presentation, but she didn't seem to care.  She told me to go out and buy another one for myself.

I didn't really want one, but to humor her I took the money and purchased another.  On the way back, I happened to pass her car, and a large, gray-faced zombie-like man was reaching into the window and pulling out her purse--a large purple shoulder-bag.  I looked around for something to try and stop him, but the only thing I had was the movie-box.  I noticed a switch on the side and pressed it, and the zombie dropped the bag, put his hands to his ears, and fled.

Just then a patrol car came up alongside me and asked if I needed assistance.  I pointed out the fleeing zombie and shared my discovery of the hidden movie-box switch with them.