Fear the Crab

Maile, George, Chanelle, and Jason were sleeping over at my house. Strangely enough, we were in my living room, on a piece of furniture that looked like a large-scale model of a station wagon. Maile and I were sleeping in the trunk of the station wagon, George was lying on the back seat, Chanelle was on the front bench seat, and Jason was lying in the footwells.

We all woke up and were trying to figure out what we were going to do. I was feeling very lazy, when all these strangers started showing up at my house. Normally I wouldn’t have allowed them in, but everyone else seemed okay with them and started to hang out. I was a tad upset by this (considering it was my house), and declined to join in the fun. Maile and I got into a brief argument over it, where I explained my feeling about the whole matter, but for some reason I kept getting the sensation that it was ME who was overreacting and being anti-social (even though it was my house and these were strangers coming in). I hopped into the shower, upon which a Smashing Pumpkins song kept playing in my head, and visions of long-haired grunge bands entertaining professional wrestlers jumbled in with a classical dose of Handel. Instead of sliding glass doors I had shower curtains, and these curtains kept blowing open in an unfelt breeze. The water pressure suddenly dropped to near-zero levels. Needless to say, I have no idea what SP song it was.