In my dream last night, I saw AJ Styles in the small French town I was hanging out in. He was standing in a deep green stretch of lawn, looking pensively at a tree. I walked by him on the stone-cobbled sidewalk, and didn't feel the need to say "Hello" because we went to the same school. I didn't see him again, but I heard from cleanshaven Joey Ryan that AJ was disgusted by the Vomitron in his hotel room. A Vomitron looks like a 5-foot-tall sewing machine with a bucket suspended in the middle. It's like a toilet for barfing. It was a standard amenity in the hotel, but AJ was offended by the idea that he would ever need it.