What?

I dreamt I was in church last night. As if that wasn't weird enough, every single hymn we sang was about a serial killer. The processional song, for example, was merely one verse of Sufjan Stevens' song about John Wayne Gacy, Jr. The choir director, for some reason, called out instructions to the whole congregation first, as if we were bona fide singers. Leona "Screech" R. and Dick "Couldn't Sing Way Out of Paper Sack" I. from my old church when I was a kid were both in this dream, murdering (pun intended) Sufjan's lovely if disturbing song.

The strangest part about it was that no one else seemed to notice that they were singing about awful things.If anything, when the ushers came around to collect pledges, I'd say the baskets were fuller than usual