I wake up and there is an octopus in my underpants. A fucking octopus!

It’s not that big but it’s still a fucking octopus and it’s in my underpants. I don’t know what is going on. I don’t know what to do. I just look at it. It’s all glistening there, the color of raspberry preserves, straining against the tight cotton seams of my underpants. At first I don’t know what to do, I mean there is a god damn octopus in my fucking underpants! I yell and yell and yell but my wife is in the other room and she won’t come. And then I remember my penis. What is it doing to my penis? I think that I’ll tear my underpants off, and rip the god damn thing to shreds. Yeah that’s what I’ll do. I mean come on, how did a fucking octopus get in my underpants? And then I panic. And I do the thing of tearing my underpants off. So I start kicking my feet and throwing the covers off. I stand up and pull off my underpants and the octopus comes off too. And I throw the wad of underpants and octopus at the wall. It hits shaking the house a little and drops leaving a wide wet mark. I kick my feet and wiggle all over, sweeping my palms over my crotch and penis really fast and run out of the room. And I don’t come back for a long time. I mean I had the ocean dream and everything but, you know.

Fuck!

How did a fucking octopus get in my god damn underpants?