I dreamed that my father was still alive and living in my childhood home with me and my mother. He was very ill and my mother hired a full-time live-in nurse. That nurse was Carol Channing.
My father died, and Carol began making outrageous demands against the estate, claiming that my father had promised her hundreds of thousands of dollars and that they had fallen in love. Spreading her stories was an African American journalist (whose race is really irrelevant to the story but it’s a detail I remember). Public opinion swung sharply in favor of Carol and she ended up owning the house. I ended up standing on the lawn screaming DAMN YOU TO HELL, CAROL CHANNING!
It was then that I spotted, through an errant blowing curtain, Carol and the journalist in a very compromising position. Investigating further, I discovered that the “journalist” was not a journalist at all, but instead worked on one of those food wagons like you see on campus quads! Somehow this exposure allowed me to prove that everything they had done was a tremendous fraud (how exactly that happened is a little hazy), I was able to reclaim the family home and all of the money and kick that skank Carol Channing to the curb!