“When the time came for the session, I headed downstairs to the foyer only to find the security guards blocking the way out—two medieval knights I’d nicknamed Frank and Igor. They weren’t actual people but rather animated suits of armor as hollow on the inside as a chocolate Easter bunny. They turned their masked faces toward me, swords pointed. “Whoa, hey guys,” I said, coming to a stop. “I’ve got a dream-feeding session. Um … may I pass?” This wasn’t something I normally had to ask. They kept staring for a moment. It was a little creepy to sense they were staring even though they didn’t have eyes, just black slits in their helmets. Finally, they moved aside, and I hurried past them with a friendly wave. I always tried to be as nice to the knights as possible. As a Nightmare, I thought it a good idea to make sure they liked me so as to avoid any accidental maiming when I came and went for dream-feeding sessions. Of course, I was working under the assumption that empty suits of armor were capable of such feelings as liking.”