A man and another man sit across from one another in a restaurant booth. The red pleather squeaks as one — the balder of the two — shifts in his seat, uncomfortable.
“Marty, what’s going on?” says the other, calmer, man. He is probably a serial rapist.
“I had a dream last night…” Marty doesn’t know how to continue.
The serial rapist urges him onward: “Explain what you mean, imbecile!” he howls, and stabs his knife into his seafood salad.
“I had a dream last night where… well… I was sitting in this booth. And you… you were standing by the register over there. And I had this terrible feeling that something was behind the restaurant… something horrible.”
The serial rapist wanted to make Marty’s nightmare a reality. He eagerly jumped up and scurried over to the register. As he did this, Marty, who looks a bit like Quentin Tarantino, actually, heard a snapping noise coming from behind the restaurant. He was like, “oh shit! It’s my dream! It’s real!” And then, like a huge douche, he actually went BEHIND the restaurant to meet his impending doom.
Imagine, reader, his surprise when his dream became reality! He turned the corner behind the restaurant and there loomed… a mailbox. When Marty saw this, he immediately ate an entire watermelon and spat all the seeds at the mailbox. Then he was run over by a bus.
When the serial rapist discovered his tattered, bloodied body, he said these words: “nex est tunc valde farina.” And then he ate Marty’s body in a very environmental, getting back to nature, kind of way. Cannibalism is less wasteful than burial, after all.
But as it turned out, Marty wasn’t dead. He had been dreaming the whole time. And when he died in his dream, he awoke to find that he had gotten an F in school and his dad was pissed. Watch out Marty, he’s a strangler!
But the moral of this story is: Simpsons: Bart’s Nightmare is a game almost solely focused on avoiding flying mailboxes. If that’s your bag, man, go for it. Cowabunga.