The Riboflavin Dream

“I don’t think I’m getting enough riboflavin.”
“What’s riboflavin?”
“I’m not sure, a vitamin or mineral or something. I’m pretty sure I’m deficient in it though.”
“Why would you think that?”
“It came to me in a dream.”
“Was it a voice dream or a picture dream?”
“It had elements of both.”
“Well, can you describe what happened in your dream?”
“You know how dreams are, after you wake up, the details become hazy.”
“What do you remember?”
“I was sitting on a tattered couch in the attic of a condemned paint store. Gathered around me were 12th-century Arabian physicians, sweat-soaked female basketball players, seven gophers that were missing their left arms, Polynesian graffiti artists, and a white Shetland pony. Paintings of ferrets dressed in old, British naval uniforms hung on the walls. Agaves were situated in the west corner, and a large, decorative ewer filled with shimmering water was placed by the side of the couch. There seemed to be quite a bit of murmuring going on.”
“I don’t see how that has anything to do with riboflavin. Did someone tell you that you needed more riboflavin?”
“I was getting to that. Suddenly, a naked Asian woman sporting a full-body tattoo of American Civil War’s Battle of Bull Run, walked into the room and started singing the Prince song, ‘When Doves Cry.’ When she finished, the assemblage broke into applause and shouted, ‘riboflavin, riboflavin.’ The Asian woman looked directly at me, and I immediately got an erection. Everyone except the pony filed out the door, and the water began to bubble. Shortly thereafter, the ferret paintings fell off the walls, and the pony remarked, ‘Those were not well-hung ferrets. I believe they needed more riboflavin in the pigment.’”
“That’s it?”
“Pretty much. What do you think?”
“Hmmm, what do you think?”
“I think I need more riboflavin.”
“I think you’re fucking nuts.”