I’m in my house, but I’m also participating in The Great British Bake Off. It’s the finale, and the two other contestants are Liam O’Brien and Taliesin Jaffe; our assignment for the final round is “butter” and we rush into the kitchen –that is, my own house’s kitchen.

Taliesin definitely knows what he’s doing. I cut open a bread roll and start buttering it, making quite a mess; next to me Liam has dipped in oil a bruschetta and is now frying it on a pan, damnit, he’s gonna beat me at my own bread game! I fill my bun with soft goat cheese, because it’s white like butter, I guess. It’s still too plain and I’m starting to panic. What can I add, what can I add!? I remember I have some trail mix in the pantry and toss it in my bun, mixing it with the soft cheese. I add some sugar on top and slam it in the electric oven next to Liam’s bruschetta.

It’s now time for the judges to try out dishes. The three of us are sitting on bar stools in my living room, a screen behind us is showing our journey through the show. When it’s my turn the screen shows a young Asian woman dressed in a Brazilian outfit, dancing with a group of men in shiny jumpsuits. Wait, was I competing in Dancing with the Stars??

I know my dish is no good and Taliesin is gonna win, and indeed Paul Hollywood is very brutal when he tries it. The other judge, an unnamed lady, is kinder. I’m so disappointed I start stress-eating my buns and Liam’s dish, which tastes like cream and honey cookies. Mine is slightly better, I think, but not enough. As I shovel both the cookies and the buns down my throat, my mom, who in this dream is Angela Bassett, looks at me from the couch and shakes her head in disappointment. I know, I know, I’m gonna get so fat.