That’s what the woman in my dream kept asking me. I was alone at home and she phoned me. I knew her name (Felicia) but not what she looked like. And no matter how I answered, it was wrong. She just kept asking the same question in varying tones of voice. I had the distinct sense that if I didn’t start answering correctly, she would bust down the door with an axe and hack me to bits.
Luckily I also woke up with this song in my head:
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So, um, whose giant penis was I just treated to a glimpse of?
No idea. Who ever did the stunt for Fight Club.