Yes, a deeper sleep, but one punctuated by continuous images of no seeming relation...an old spinster flying through a windy sky on a bicycle with a basket on back, humming a sinister ditty, dum-ta-dum-ta-dum-dum....; a cadre of crazed hamsters dancing in the demented fashion of dervishes; and the tiples! Oh, the tiples, everywhere he turned, no matter the image, no matter the dream, there they were! Playing the endless tinkling tiples! What madness! He tossed and turned upon his bunk, flinging his hands to his ears, then across his eyes, screaming out loud, "BAAADDDDDD trip, Man!! Who slipped me this shit, man?!!! Shitcan those bales, the stuff is NO good!!!"