There once was an elephant named Stan who loved to sleep.
“Hey Stan,” the other elephants would call. “Come with us to the watering hole. We’re gonna have a water party!”
“Meh,” Stan would sigh before rolling into the shade of a banana grove.
“Hey Stan, we found a field of sugar cane field. Come with us before it’s all gone.”
“Feh,” he grumbled before burying his head in a giant pile of leaves.
“Hey Stan, Lenny took the BIGGEST dump. You gotta see this thing!”
“Heh,” he laughed before plopping down into his favorite ditch.
Then one day a fire broke out in the savannah. The dry grass and leaves and trees burned quickly. The heat was overwhelming. The animals of the savannah panicked and stampeded across the land. The sound of their desperate cries and thundering hooves and paws filled the blackened air.
“Stan! Stan!” the other elephants yelled as they scrambled to escape. “Run for your liiiiiiiiife!!!”
Then Stan woke up and found that he wasn’t an elephant at all, leaving him to wonder what it exactly it meant to dream that he was an elephant that was so lazy that he would not even run away from certain death.