Dreaming of the Schoolboy Cubemaster

Last night I had a powerfully vivid dream that has left me feeling shaken and undernourished. In my dream, I was serving cocktails to the elite with the quiet dignity of one who is fully resigned to his lot in life, when I noticed that all the assembled party were on fire. Oddly beautiful, their molten skin frothed and bubbled from their skulls in a grossly accelerated parody of natural human decomposition that gave me cause to ponder sadly on the transience of mortal life. It was a bit like that scene in Indiana Jones where the faces of the bad Nazis melt because they let all the ghosts out of that box or something.

The cause of the fire quickly became apparent - Patrick Bossert had emerged behind me from some sort of an alcove, his human body now replaced by a series of Rubik's Cubes. I briefly pitied this twisted mockery, this creature more cube than man, but he spewed flame from his mouth at me, so I decided to fear him instead. He snatched me up in his cubic fingers and his cube of a body at once began to swivel and rotate as though some unseen hand was trying to solve him. I rapidly became caught among his cubes and was dragged into his multifaceted body bruised and bloody.

At this point I woke up. At no point thus far in my life have I had a suitable excuse to sit bolt upright in my bed and scream aloud. I permitted myself this small luxury this morning. I have spent today attempting to replicate the Bossert Beast of my nightmares using Microsoft Paint so that my readers may share in my horror. I do not know what, if anything, the dream might signify.