You're so vain (REM sleep edition)

you'll probably think this dream was about you.

So at some odd confluence of locations (a school? A party? A show?) I find myself in the company of a gentleman known to me, let's just say (let's call him "Mr. Hankey"). Mr. Hankey is angrily deriding me in front of some of my stand up comedy friends - well, nearby - "why do you hang out with these losers...what are they doing with their lives...what are you doing with yours" and proceeds to run down a gut-punching and not entirely inaccurate litany of my perceived weaknesses and faults. He storms off, promising to retrieve me shortly. I skulk miserably around the corner of what appears to be a school, train station, some tiled-wall building hallway, and see, sitting against the wall, holding his knees to his chest, grinning, an identical, parallel-universe version of Mr. Hankey. How do I know P-Hankey is different? I just do. (Surprisingly, no goatees are involved.) Because he's smiling and has a cheesy yellow shirt on. He comes over and hugs me, and tells me not to let Evil Mr. Hankey get me down. I am relieved to have him holding me so reassuringly, being so nice, but I am afraid that E-Hankey is lurking, and shoo him away. "He'll be back, soon." I think they'll weirdly annihilate each other, or something, I guess. So I detach him, shoo him off. He casually turns the corner just as E-Hankey appears around the one behind me, throws his arm around my shoulder, and continues his litany of asshole-ness, insisting it's right and "for my own good." I'm forgetting what happens after that.

Upon reflection, this is fucking weird. Isn't it? Oh yeah, Mr Hankey is probably me, blah blah blah. But I never wear yellow.