Stolen Trailer Pie

I was in a band, and we were on the road. This was our first real tour, and we were excited. We'd rented a trailer from somewhere like U-Haul. It was brilliant green. Our van was unremarkable. It belonged to someone's parents.

We drove through the northwest. We must have played some clubs, but I don't remember how it went. I think our sound was sort of like a cross between They Might Be Giants and the Talking Heads, but I don't remember how I got that impression.

Our bandleader looked like a younger Iggy Pop, except less nude and with short hair.

We all went into a Denny's and ate dinner. I had a BLT. When I'm awake, I can't stand tomatoes, but in the dream they tasted pretty good.

When we left the restaurant, we were annoyed to find that our trailer was gone, and with it most of our stuff, including our instruments. The thieves had also taken our booster engines.

See, when we decided to haul a rental trailer around behind our van, we also rented some booster engines so our speed wouldn't suffer. They were teardrop-shaped, like motorcycle fuel tanks, and bolted to the sides of the van. When we didn't have the trailer connected to the van, we could go very fast. They also helped fuel economy, because they didn't seem to require any. If we had run out of gas, we could have just run on the booster engines, but everyone knows that's bad for the car.

Anyway, some jerks had taken our stuff and our gas tanks. Bastards.

We kept on our tour. I guess we borrowed stuff. We still had a good time, but we missed our things. At least we were only out our instruments and clothing -- the trailer and engines were covered by the rental company.

We drove into Canada. The first stop we made was at a Motel 6. Lo and behold, there in the parking lot was a 1970s car with primer spots, towing our trailer and with our booster engines attached.

Some of us kept watch while the Iggy Pop-looking leader unhitched the trailer. I unbolted the engines. It was cold out, and my fingers felt frozen and clumsy.

We hitched the trailer to our van, but we just put the engines in the back. The van felt sluggish as we drove across town. Finally, we stopped at a different motel. Some people started bolting the engines back on, while our bandleader opened the trailer.

All our stuff was still there, as well as a couple of unfamiliar bags, presumably belonging to the thieves. Weirder, though, were the pies stacked all the way to the ceiling. There were at least a hundred pies in our trailer, wedged in every place that would hold them.

The pies were in disposable aluminum pie pans, and looked professionally made. They had clear plastic covers that snapped on to the pans. Nearly every different kind of pie was represented, but at least forty of them were pumpkin.

We called the company and told them we'd gotten the trailer and engines back. They promised to send the police to the motel. Our band ate some pies. We wrote a song.

All I can remember is the part that goes:

"Pi-i-i-i-ie! We got instant pi-i-i-i-ie!
Pi-i-i-i-ie! We got instant pi-i-i-i-ie!
Pi-i-i-i-ie! We got instant pie."

I think we didn't eat much else but pie, the rest of that tour.