I was at a seedy mall with a friend. These men in black came up and said that Hillary Clinton wanted to talk to us. We followed them through a bunch of corridors to a dirty little folding-chair storage room where we proceeded to have a long talk with Hillary. She was trying to convince me to vote for her. At the end, we all stood up and I extended my hand to shake hers. She hugged me instead. I hated this. Then my friend and I walked back down the corridors. She was wearing the worst perfume ever. I woke up with that icky feeling I get when someone I am not fond of touches me.
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