Bertram Buttercup landed his new job: sweeping dreams. He’d seen the ad – “Sweep Dreams Inc.: Making Sleep Sweeter!” – and envisioned himself a kind of dream curator, ensuring only the pleasant ones reached slumbering minds.
His first day was… different. His office was a literal broom closet, crammed with cobwebs and a sentient dust bunny named Phil. His supervisor, a gnome named Gertrude with a permanent scowl, shoved a ridiculously oversized broom into his hands.
“Right, Buttercup,” Gertrude grumbled. “Dream Number 47B, the ‘Giant Squirrel Wearing a Tutu’ scenario. Seems it’s gone rogue. Apparently, the tutu is itching the squirrel and it’s causing nightmares about…nuts.”
Bertram blinked. “Nuts?”
“Acorns, walnuts, pecans! The whole shebang! Go fix it!”
Armed with his broom, Bertram plunged into the swirling vortex of Dream 47B. He found the squirrel, indeed, in a bright pink tutu, scratching furiously and terrorizing a family of teddy bears with oversized acorns.
“Excuse me,” Bertram said politely, trying to wrangle the giant rodent. “Perhaps a hypoallergenic tutu?”
The squirrel shrieked, throwing a walnut at him. It ricocheted off Bertram’s nose.
Undeterred, Bertram remembered Gertrude’s instructions: “Sometimes, dreams just need a good sweepin’!” He started sweeping vigorously, gathering up the rogue acorns, the stray sequins from the tutu, and even Phil, who had somehow hitched a ride.
Finally, exhausted, Bertram surveyed the scene. The squirrel, now tutu-less and looking somewhat sheepish, was munching on a carrot offered by a teddy bear. The chaos was gone.
Back in the broom closet, Gertrude eyed him suspiciously. “Did you fix the nut problem?”
Bertram nodded wearily. “Yes, Gertrude. I swept it all away.”
Gertrude’s scowl deepened. “Good. Now, about dream 48A, the one where everyone is attending a synchronized swimming competition using sausages as floats…”
Bertram sighed. “Sweep Dreams? More like Sweep Nightmares!”
