That's the last time Jenny gets to pick

I dreamt that I got a lot of friends together to go hang out at a bar/amusement park. After drinking and going on rides that required holding on to handles suspended way up in the air through jumps and really fast turns, we decided to move on to the next place. There was a limit of designated drivers, but I found one and made him stay to watch a Gothic dollhouse wedding. We were informed that something might be terribly wrong with our health and were steered to the prep area for the handy operating room they had on site, where they specialized in cutting your cheek open for some reason that sounded really important at the moment. My friend got an ugly, jagged Joker mouth on one side, and I ended up with a long diagonal cut down the side of my cheek like Inigo Montoya, and I was dismayed yet slightly entertained by the idea that I was going to have to walk around for the rest of my like yelling, "HALLO! My name..."
While recovering (and desperately trying to contact the rest of my friends only to find they were still there too with all their cheeks cut and drinking the Kool-aid), I got to talk with two of the doctors about how the surgery went and my prognosis. "We also switched your eyeballs." I laughed, and that doctor laughed too. The other doctor said, "No- really," while holding my gaze.