Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is saving the world one dream at a time.
Last night, Morpheus bade me to save Lindsay Lohan. It was a dream job I couldn't refuse. Thank the Gummi Mary, Mrs. HM is Dr. Drew, Dr. Phil, and Dr. Bob Hartley all rolled into one. Which is handy for explaining her rotund appearance.
As luck would have it, I found my patient climbing into a hyperbaric sleep chamber on the parking lot of the old 7-Eleven. Just as that lid was closing, like a tanning bed, or an Alien movie cryopod, a handsome young dude appeared and palmed something off into LiLo's palm. I caught them in the act. Mrs. HM ain't no slouch in the celebrity-saving department. I commanded Handsome Dude to hit the road, and scolded LiLo. "Don't you know that people DIE from that?" She appeared to have regained her acting skills, because she nodded ashamedly, and clamped the lid of her chamber shut.
I flew off in the direction of my bank to do more important things in the dream world. When I returned three hours later, LiLo was just emerging from her pod like a butterfly from her chrysalis. She was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. We ran around town for a whole day, BFFs, and then my dream job was over. "See?" I told her. "You've gone twenty-four hours without drugs, and you're fine. I know you can make it." LiLo, of course, agreed. Because Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is just that good.
To complete my mission, I took LiLo home. Not with me! Are you kidding? Even in a dream, I'm not that stupid! I took her to the Playboy Mansion. That's where she was living. Of course I had to go in and wake Hef, to let him know she was safely home. He was in his pajamas. Seriously. And in bed, even. Alone. He was quite glad that I had returned LiLo. He thanked me, and sent her off to her room.
I told The Pony about this bit of insanity. And I ended it with, "She'd better not turn up on the news dead today!"
Maybe tonight, I can save Amber Portwood, the Teen Mom who chose five years in the big house rather than another stint in rehab.