A Samurai warrior, some rock musician and I are at Bob Hope's house playing craps on a small green baize table. I have to go get some more money. They politely let me leave and talk to each other.
I suspect that the Samurai is really Bob Hope in disguise but I don't want to risk offending our host. I pick my wallet out of my jacket and take out a couple of hundred dollar bills, putting the rest in my back pocket.
I return to the game to find, to my surprise, that it isn't a Samurai at all, but my very pretty English girlfriend. And neither is it some rock musician, but another girl with whom I had a brief sexual relationship a while back. God, what a surprise.
Neither is it Bob Hope's house, but mine! What a surprise! And we aren't playing craps either! It's chess! God!
Then I realise the trick. The Samurai warrior and the rock musician are holding carefully fashioned masks to their faces to fool me. They drop the masks and we all laugh merrily. I offer them a bottle of wine apiece and they accept. I fetch three bottles of fine white wine. I deliver the bottles but then realise that I cannot find a corkscrew. God, I am lost in my own house. Or maybe it is Bob Hope's house after all. Maybe I am Bob Hope!
I turn back to the table to explain about all of this when I see my girlfriend with a corkscrew in her hand, demanding that I make my move as she can see checkmate in three.
I have strange days like this sometimes. Fancy losing a corkscrew. I feel such an idiot.