Last night I dreamed that I was trying to eat a giant chocolate chip muffin, and I climbed on top of it and got sucked down into it's center. Inside the muffin I encountered a group of talking humanoid chocolate chips wearing evening gowns and leisure suits. They were all quite pleasant and amiable, and amused me with stories of their rich and surprisingly active life inside the muffin. The chips seemed to be of different ethnic backgrounds and they all spoke with unique accents; there was a sexy, sultry French woman, an elderly German man with a smoker's cough, a Mexican bullfighter, a Swedish merchant marine, and a fast-talking lawyer from New York, among others. As I said, they were all quite friendly, except for a larger, more lightly-colored chip that sat in the corner scowling and grumbling to himself. "Stay away from him," the other chips told me, "he's a cashew. He got stuck in here by accident and he's never gotten over it. He was supposed to be part of a jewish apple cake..."