In the dim light of the dawn, she swept away the broken glass on the ground. Cars passed by outside the window as workers poured the unsalable milk into the river. There had been no light here since Black Tuesday.
In the bedroom, purple smoke spread from beside the sleeping monsters. Their protruding beaks slowly shrank into the skin, revealing human faces again. No one would believe they were once stunningly beautiful, as glamorous as the great new era.
Unfortunately, the U.S. fell to the slums before its poorhouses disappeared. It was a hard time and everyone was struggling. In the face of war and poverty, everyone wanted comfort, even if it was just a sweet dream for a night.
"Good night, Grandpa." She kissed the monster on the left, and then the one on the right, "Good night, Grandma."

The headlines of the newspapers are filled with her name, and there is a long line under her posters. With multiple movies starring her and rumors about her going around, she seems even more enchanting. She was a blonde goddess and everyone's sweetheart, from whom a mere glance was worth thousands. "I told you from the start that you'd succeed! I've never been wrong!" "I never thought I'd be able to achieve what I have today. If I hadn't passed by the theater that day, I might still be working in a factory." "There's no way you would have stayed in that place forever. Even God couldn't bear to let a gem like you gather dust. That's why he arranged for you to appear at the audition!" "Cheers, to this beautiful coincidence, Sir!" The innocent and charming woman hid her mouth as she smiled. Their highball glasses clinked together as the city lit up outside the window wall, the highway built on the mountain spiraling upwards like a staircase to the stars.

Pandora Wilson: You mean you have never, ever had a nightmare?
Sweetheart: Of course not. My nights are even sweeter than honey.
Sweetheart: Oh, Miss!
Sweetheart: If I, the one who brings sweet dreams to the people, have trouble sleeping at night, wouldn't that be a bit too ridiculous and ironic? Remember, if you are to make people happy, make yourself happy first.
Pandora Wilson: This is unusual. Most of us have had nightmares.
Sweetheart: It's probably because of my Sweet Nighty Night. It has been always there with me, since the first day we met.

Sweetheart: You mean ... statues are incredibly beautiful to you?
Pandora Wilson: Of course. They are calm, flawless and almost perfect.
Sweetheart: But they are also cold, rigid, and have no love or emotion.
Pandora Wilson: That's exactly what is good about them.
Sweetheart: What a weird taste, my darling!