From the diary of Griselda Vargas-Beilschmidt

7

I had a weird dream last night. I don't remember details, but I know it started nicely - parmesan was falling from the sky and there were oceans of pasta sauce. The ground was covered in cocoa. Gabe and me were going down the pasta sauce river on a ship called "Greatness 0.1" and we had to avoid the meatballs floating on the surface.

At some point there was a storm and rotten food was swirling in a tornado. Suddenly out of nowhere the face of Mr United States appeared and told us to "get off my ship yo!"

Afterwards, we hit a meatball and "Greatness" sunk. We were saved by the Penne dolphins (?). They got us to a coconut island where two or three of our friends were dancing some ancient shaman dances to the rhytm of the drum made out of a potato.

Then one of the Nordics, Ingrid, flew nearby on some winged fish the size of a small whale. She muttered something, then threw some kind of white lightning bolt at us and suddenly I was awake.

What in the name of Holy Pasta Lord just happened?

Well, it could've been worse. This wasn't half bad though, I liked the idea.

Maybe if all the rivers in the world were filled with pasta sauce and overgrown Penne dolphins, people wouldn't die of hunger. But then, where would water be? It still has some improvements to make.

I don't dream that often. Not that I remember, anyway. However, I noticed that Gabriel does. And it's mostly not as nice.

On one of our frequent sleepovers I was woken up by the cries of something in pain. I turned around, and there's Gabe, sweating, breathing hard.

"What happened?" I had asked. "Bad dream?" He nodded.

"What was it about?"

He took a deep breath. "I- I was...caged up...and...there was fire....and people were dying..." I hugged him. What more could I do?

Thankfully, it's not always as bad. "Last night I had a dream with pirates in it!" He said once, not afraid at all. "It was really exciting! And I was dancing on the table," he explained and stopped on a chair to demonstrate. He was stopped from doing that, though. Too bad, I would've joined.

However, I'm glad to not dream that often, since it means I don't have to go to dad's bedroom in search of comfort. I used to do that a lot...A LOT, but sometimes they seemed to be unhappy to see me. I once caught them naked. I don't understand why, since it wasn't that hot, but they were flushed. Vati later explained that I just can't enter whenever I please, it's not polite, and that he and Papa needed some time alone too, so I agreed to go there again only in emergency cases.

On the next world meeting I asked about it the first one who passed me in the hallway, which happened to be Mr France. He started laughing that "Ohonhonhonhonhonhonhon" laughter of his and started, but 2 seconds in George came along, put together what was happening, covered my ears and yelled "NO! I WON'T LET YOU TAKE GRISELDA'S INNOCENCE!"

The next thing I know, Papa's standing in front of me with a cross in his hand, shrieking "STEP BACK SATAN!", Vati's tackled France to the ground and was strangling him while Uncle Romano poured Holy water over them both.

George was up against a wall, pale in the face, whispering "I shouldn't have said it like that, should I?"

Gabriel didn't know what was happening or why, but he took it as a chance to kick someone in the crotch, so he went for it.

When I told Fred the whole story, he fell from a chair, laughing so hard I thought he was going to hyperventilate.

To this day I have no freaking clue what the heck did I withness that time.