Pineapple Juice!

First-Person Perspective
I was in a studio at the back of someone's house.  It was very cramped and messy (as most artist's studios probably are), and looked like a room with a different purpose that had been turned into a studio.  It seems like the back wall was completely open to the world, but I might be wrong.  There were people everywhere, doing their own stuff.  The thing on which I was painting my large board was very odd and unlike any easel I have ever seen before.  It was kind of like a projection screen mounted on a TV with some other little things.  That doesn't really make sense, but neither does what I saw.

I was painting a guy against a kitchen landscape with a giant metal orb in front of the guy.  I was having serious trouble figuring out how to paint it, both in general and with the color palette.  My professor, who I'm pretty sure was supposed to be Sheldon, walked over and began to comment on it.  I think other people might have joined in.  I hated the bright, almost psychedelic colors that were on the cabinets (like, bright green and yellow, and maybe even pink??).  I wasn't sure about anything, really.  But when I walked away and looked at it in some sort of reflection, I realized that the orb was there and noticed how well it was painted which made me feel better.

[Lapse of Time]

I'm outside walking with someone (can't remember who and am not even sure about gender).  We have just gone to the store, or were trying to go to the store, and are coming back.  The neighborhood doesn't really look like anything I've ever seen before, and I don't know if I can even describe it.  Like most things, I suppose it's an amalgamation of about five different places at least.  As we turn the corner to a sort of street-driveway to this huge mansion we've been staying in (and where the studio is located), it begins to snow.  We get worried and wonder if we need to head back to wherever we're from, especially as it starts to get heavy.  In a matter of seconds, the ground is covered.  Up ahead, the foyer skylight to the mansion suddenly sparks pinkish (not a normal spark; more like one of those electric balls you put your hand on and the electricity attracts to you) and collapses.  It continues to crash as we watch on horrified.  It sparks pinkish one last time, and then it is over.  The butler (I guess?) and a few others are staring at the glass covering the ground and wondering what to do about it.  I'm beginning to realize that we're not going to be able to leave.  I try my best to walk through the glass, but mid-step I lose all intentions and just step any where.  I pick pieces of glass out of my sock (why was I walking in socks??) and try to brush off the tinier unseen pieces as they prick at my hand.

The butler wants to accommodate me, even though I really just want to get back in the studio (soon I forget about all of that).  He gets orders from his master (who I have an image of as being Batman-Bruce Wayne, haha) to take me somewhere.  I get in his truck and he takes me past several houses I had seen on my walk but hadn't noticed (and now realize they all belong to BW-BM).  He stops off to the side of a modest building in a dirt/gravel parking lot.  There are workers in the field in front of us.  As I get out, I realize that this is one of the most lavish houses BW-BM owns (minus the mansion) even though on the outside it looks like an abandoned store.  Inside are hundreds of dolls and mannequins, and it is decorated in gold.

I am admittedly freaked out by staying with thousands of dolls staring at me all the time, but try to hide it and make myself feel better by making small talk about how someone I know stayed here just a little while ago.  He hands me some folded fifty bills that are so new they're still stuck together, telling me to treat myself for the next bit.  We enter and it suddenly looks totally different than it did on the outside.  There are two extremely proper and high class women sitting at a table in the center of the living room (it now looks like a trailer; the carpets are blue-green and the walls are wood panel).  I take a seat, unsure about everything I'm doing.  The butler has handed me a cheat sheet book at some point earlier, telling me what to order and where, but I can't look at it if I want to make a good impression.  (Also, apparently master BW-BM's wife has died at some point, and so he has dishes named after her that were her favorite, and those are the things I'm supposed to order when I go places.)  The waiter is already asking for our drink orders as we're sitting down; I freeze and make the conscious decision to not order soda since I feel like it might seem vulgar, so the only thing that comes to mind is pineapple juice.  The ritzier lady, probably trying to make me feel better but only succeeding in making me feel small, says, "Pineapple juice!  Well, waiter, I think I'll have pineapple juice as well."

I don't remember ordering, but I do remember that after I got a peek at the cheat book that it wasn't the right thing and feeling apologetic.  The entire dinner was tense, repeating what had just happened.