Dreamt a creepy dream wherein I became a grave robber.
(I may not get paid overtime or receive any medical benefits, but I get to set my own hours and meet plenty of interesting people.)
As is wont to happen with my bad luck, my skulduggery attracted the attention of a man who didn't take kindly to my desecration of the dead. He was tall, bald, gaunt, dressed in a tailored black suit, and had jaundice-yellow skin.
(O hai, Inspiration No. 1.)
He attacked me, I cut off one of his hands. Yellow blood spurted all over me, quickly congealing into a mustard-like consistency.
(O hai, Inspiration No. 2.)
While the dream trailed off there, I was still left with the impression that the Yellow Man — whoever, whatever he was — wasn't yet finished with me.
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