There are three of us, males. We are planning to take some people, perhaps ourselves, and cook them down to a sauce and drink it. I have reservations. I ask, "Isn't this like cannibalism? Eating people isn't right." They assure me it's OK, because it's us, not anyone else. I am not totally convinced. I go along. We put a small person in a pot and cook it down. The sauce is blood red. He gets it out and offers it to me. I cringe and say, "I can't." I see two cockroaches in it, and exclaim, "How did they get in there and they are still alive?" Then the man eats the living cockroach and swallows a few bites of the stuff, which is now thin white thread-like things. I feel queasy and walk away back to our rooms. Slowly, the man starts turning into an insect man. He is coming for me and I run away, trying to get away. I go outside and mingle with bikers and sleazy people. The insect man now has extra feet and legs and is on a bicycle and the extra legs are now a circle of legs and feet and an extra wheel and pedals on the bike. I see some other half and half creatures around, a man's head on a short zebra-like body. Others have sipped the sauce. I run; they chase.