The King and I

Strange dreams plagued me this morning. Stephen King was sending me money because he believed in my talent. Instead of sending the last check, which was a really large amount, he brought it himself. It wasn't one check but a whole bunch of checks from a lot of different accounts, all small amounts. He said it was to hide it from his accountant and his wife. The stack of checks was enormous, filling a box. What was really strange was that he brought the checks because he wanted to make me his mistress but when we ended up in bed together (his shirt was off and we were kissing when he guided my hand lower--much lower) it wasn't King but someone with whose anatomy I am very familiar.

What's up with that?