Last night I had a dream to rival the Darth Vader’s Sysad dream.

I dreamed with that all-seeing third party (like watching a movie) perspective. There was a reporter and a cameraman working on an investigative story about mistreated emus. No, really. Emus. The owners of the emus were just dropping off food and didn’t notice that a virus had killed nearly all of their flock. The smell of rotting emu was overwhelmingly strong, and the reporter was going on and on about “the horrors these majestic beasts had been subjected to” when…

Okay, here’s the weird part:

…a giant flying shark, it’s belly covered with grass (like it had been laying in a recently-cut field), swooped in and started to feed on the emu corpses. It was a huge beast – something like 12 feet – and shaped like a juvenile great white before they get really portly and pack on the fat. It landed next to the pile of emu, held itself up on its front fins (which were somewhat elongated) and began to feast. The reporter was terrified – I mean, you have this huge apex predator coming right at you from the sky, gliding in even though it was not even remotely aerodynamic – wouldn’t you be terrified? But it wasn’t a problem, because out of water all those highly-evolved receptors were basically useless. It just knew about the emus because they reeked so bad.

Pretty bizarre, eh?