Dream of Roger Rabbit and crossdresser/transsexual analogies

     Context:

          At Holly's talking Sci-Fi heroines
          Reading a monologue for Molly Millions of Neuromancer
          Playing Vase and Vase's younger cover-self


We've been waiting in the café for it to show up. Me and a few other humans. I embody the Scruffy Bastard, the P.I. with my trench and my hair and my posture, my attitude. I jam my fedora on and head outside.

           Much like the Trickster I saw in a dream five years ago.

Los Angeles,
      sepia and dusty. Caught between an imagined Film Noir past and a sprawling complex future.

"Get in the Limo [Amy's boy name]," they say.

It's like a wide stretch limo. Glistening black. Takes up the whole lane. But inside there are rows and rows of seats - it's basically a passenger van.

Through an open window, I can see that back seat is full of muppets and dancing Warner Brothers insects. There's space near the driver. I get in and hunker down in the footrest area. This car is huge. The driver isn't even in this row. There's an extra three-seat row ahead of me.

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