I Need Joseph

...to interpret a dream I had last night. I have never really wanted to interpret dreams or read a book on what they mean, although every once in a while I DO wonder what in the heck my dream of that particular night was. I can do kind of cool things in my dreams that I heard some people can't do; like, if I'm falling, I can start flying or if I'm chasing a blonde, I can make her morph instantly into a burnette. OOow!! Now, last night I had a dream that I could not control for the first time and woke up seriously spending a good amount of time trying to figure it out and what it all meant. Was it a metaphor for something grand? Was it a mystical message or a personal tease? Was it some sort of personal puzzle for me to try to search for and decipher? I have NO clue and it's killing me. So here was the dream:

Scene: Michael's apartment.
Cut to Michael's phone ringing and Trevor Lofton's name showing up.
Michael: Whats up, baby?! (no sexual signification there; all testosterone and ego.)
Trevor: Nothing much man.. actually... there is something you need to see... it's kind of crazy and I need your help.
Michael: Yeah?! What's her name, bro?! hahaha

Scene: Trevor at 4MS looking at a large stack of boxes holding an envelope.
Trevor: No, seriously. I got a rather large shipment of something in the mail today. I opened a letter that came with it and it strictly says I can't open it unless you're present. No questions asked...

Scene: Michael (yes seriously,) cautiously setting a glass of Cherry Coke onto his coffee table.
Michael: Weird man... alright, give me 20 minutes.

Scene: 4MS, Square Room. Room is quiet, vacant of any bodies, lights dimly illuminating the stone gray walls. We hear a slight tapping as Michael walks into the room and approaches Trevor who stands before the large shipment of boxes with a very cautious and concerned, inquisitive countenance.
Trevor: Thanks man... I have no idea what this could be and I really didn't want to try to check it out alone.
Michael with a nod: No worries, man. We'll figure it out. Let me see the letter...

Scene: Michael and Trevor stand towering over the opened boxes, roughly 60-80 in count, each 1'x1' in dimension. They are randomly colored in hues of dark grays, black, and blues. A few of the opposing red pieces stand out like a silhoutte in front of a sun during it's morning rise. Firey and warm.
Trevor: They are all colored differently. They're all a painting of some sor...
Michael: It's a puzzle... a collage maybe... I don't know. They aren't numbered or anything. Wait...

Scene: Michael climbs onto the stage and towers further above the intriguing artwork spread out like a canvas over the sleek floor.
Michael: There... that's a corner piece. Put it over next to the sound booth and we'll try to piece it all together...
Trevor: Sweet!
*Rachel comes into the room but is quickly but carefully, tenderly, removed by her husband.*
*Michael and Trevor spend hours placing and replacing certain pieces of the artwork into different places in different orders until finally they stand on the stage looking down at the uncoded artwork which lays before them. The artwork, which started as a puzzle, now deciphered into a darkened image which seems to ignite off of the opposing slate gray floor it rests upon. It's as if the floor can't sustain the heaviness, the depth of the realized image.

Trevor: No... freakin' ... way.
Michael with a smile and nod not even looking at Trevor.
Michael: Giddy up, baby. It's gonna be a crazy ride... and this truly is (seriously) how babies are made...
Scene: Camera (birds-eye view) Emblazoned from the artwork is a simple image. A black Ford Mustang with a thin red light stretched along its grille driving down a dusty road with a night darkened sky. It's the Knight Rider.

*fade out and wake up*
Me: What the crap!?