I was in some kind of Survivor show, but it seemed like a goofy one. There was something British about it (no offense to the Brits, it just wasn't gung-ho Americana machoism). We had to climb past or kind or go through a next of baby snakes. They were all pinkisn and had very big teeth. The word Cobra went through my mind.
I picked one up, a pink-ish one, and it bit me on the wrist and arm and it hurt like hell.
I left there and somehow joined a group of amateur musicians. We all played recorders, and I was first chair, and my recorder was shaped like a soft, stuffed rabbit. Another musician, a man, had one that looked like it was made of wooden blocks, and they kept kind of coming apart. I couldn't play at at all - really, not at all - so I was worried that I was in the leading chair, but no one seemed to care. We all tried to make a note or two for about an hour, then called it quits for the day and they all said 'See you Tomorrow!' - it was all very jolly.
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