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I Want my Inheritance!

Dreamed 1989/12/18 by Chris Wayan

dream sketch by Wayan.


A Chinese girl with a pudgy sad face is talking on the phone--talking dirty. As usual. She does phone sex for a living.

But... with her other hand, she's massaging her crotch, I think. She's hunched forward so I can't see her cunt directly, but I think she's not just acting excited for her customer, she's really masturbating.

Her stomach bulges out strangely. I pat the bulge, feel it. She lets me, absent-mindedly, while she goes on talking to her customer and rubbing and rocking. Her belly's all spongy, not firm like pregnancy or bouncy like fat. Something else is filling her up. "Tears" pops into my mind.

Even as she satisfies her john, and comes herself, squeezing her eyes shut and squeaking like a cat... she's pregnant with tears.
dream sketch by Wayan.


But phone sex is just her day job. Nights, she's an actress with a specialty niche: swimming commercials.

Tonight she's working on an ad whose director isn't quite clear on how it should go. They try this, they try that--camera angles, different strokes. Most of the actresses patronize the one boy in the cast, a street kid "with only," the girls say, "20 minutes of education."

Only one girl doesn't mock him: the teary girl, who's in a stupid swimsuit--a simple, normal bikini bottom but an awkward lacy smock for a top. It was supposed to be "modest", and maybe it is on dry land, but in the pool, the lacy stuff floats up like seaweed, often baring her tear-swollen belly, half-baring her breasts... and often hiding her face!

Plus, when she swims, the drag holds her back.

Several others have similar "modest", draggy designs. Did the director pick these, or is this just another hideous swimsuit season?
I dream I'm a big-haired blonde wanting to save the world from sticky hair. Dream sketch by Wayan.


About the director. She's quite young--an heiress in a big rich family who was supposed to get her share recently, when she came of age. But her family's been stalling. She wants to use the money for this campaign to sell a new product she invented: shampoo made with certain mineral salts. Assaying the mineral content of various seawaters is essential, and she has people with water testers out right now. They've been delayed, though. They keep saying "Another day or two. What's the big hurry?"

"Well, my campaign to save the world from sticky hair will be delayed!"

What a contradiction she is! Pure LA rich blonde... yet idealistic. But such a silly idealism! Yet not stupid--her upbringing was just so sheltered. Or maybe I'm ignorant and the Sticky Hair Plague endangers us all. I admit, her hair's gorgeous and mine's an old birdnest.

I hope she gets her fair share of the inheritance. Even if she wants to blow it on her ditzy crusade, isn't that her right?

But I think she's being cheated. I was tinkering with electrical equipment in the house, and found an elaborate pipe hookup--apparently there'll be a toilet here when they finish, though the plumbers aren't here for me to ask. The pipes look funny though. Look closer. The label says SALT ASSAYER! These testers hid her equipment and didn't sample the waters! I can't imagine why... unless her family bribed them to stall her.

Family sabotage! This isn't right. Her campaign may be silly, but it's hers. I have to warn her.
Wedding scene--the groom is a $300 bill. Dream sketch by Wayan.


Now... I'm her. Singleminded. They still won't give me my fair share--dispute my birth date and competency and anything else they can invent. But according to the family trust, if I'm married, the day of my inheritance is much earlier, long past. They can't delay any longer, if I have a husband. So I decide to get married--for money.

One of my film crew will do. He agrees. Why not? He knows me pretty well, we get along, I'm going to be rich, and I'm cute. And I have great hair. What more is there?

I didn't mean that. I'm not forgetting love. But I won't let them steal my inheritance! My heritage, really.

A small civil ceremony. We stand in my parents' bedroom and go through with this marriage for money. I feel ashamed. But I'm determined to get what is mine--no matter what the cost.

After the ceremony, my family's lawyers hand me my first payment. I'm suspicious, and won't take a check. They seem to have anticipated this. They return with the $300 in cash.

And I leave, neither proud or ashamed, just wary, expecting them to refuse to send the next payment, probably.

Only when I wake do I realize my family cheated me again.

I assumed it was just because I'd been so poor that I'd never seen a such a high-denomination bill before.

A $300 bill.



It was true. My parents taught me that competition, selfishness and money itself were wicked; I felt guilty competing for jobs or negotiating salaries. Not a formula for success! I still can't compete.

But being a cheapskate wasn't wicked. So I worked quietly in a library, saved half my paychecks, and found I was quite competent as an investor, where businessmen couldn't see and judge me. I retired at 36 to do art & music in comfortable, independent poverty.

If you can't undo all your parental brainwashing, work around it.

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