What we dream about when we watch too much “Lost”

17 October 2006, 7:12 am

Ana Lucia clambers into the motel room from the balcony. She’s a were-alligator (or, possibly, crocodile). I holler throat-hoarse for help from my friends in the room above as I try to back her into a corner. If we don’t secure her while she’s in human form, the most effective tools for alligator and/or crocodile supression we have at our disposal are cardboard tubes from wrapping paper. I’m not sanguine about their efficacy.

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