Enter Sandman

[thelordofdreams]

Dream walked into the rec room with a spiral bound notebook under one arm. To occupy himself lately he'd been writing... well, memoirs of a sort. His mortality lingered over his head like a storm cloud, and he felt as if he had some obligation to preserve himself somehow. And besides, he thought with some degree of pleasure, perhaps it would be helpful if Will was serious about writing a play about him.

As soon as he crossed in front of the jukebox on the way to the couch, it started to play. A familiar melody that made him cringe.

Mister Sandman, bring me a dream.
Make him the cutest that I've ever seen.
Give him two lips like roses and clover;
Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over...

He spun on his heels and glared at the contraption. If he hadn't been locked in that cage during most of the twentieth century he would have given the Chordettes nightmares.

Perhaps his murderous gaze did some good, because the jukebox suddenly skipped, buzzed of a changing record, and then began to play again, heavy bass and heavy guitar, a grating voice in sharp contrast to what had come before:

Say your prayers, little one.
Don't forget, my son,
To include everyone.
Tuck you in, warm within,
Keep you free from sin
'Til the Sandman he comes.
Sleep with one eye open
Gripping your pillow tight -
Exit light,
Enter night.
Take my hand
Off to never never land...

Dream rolled his eyes.