Weirdest, Most Lucid, Most Narrative Dream I've Ever Had

Last night, I had a dream that there was a zombie disease infestation. People were getting scared because you couldn't tell who was infected and who wasn't. The infection made you smarter, colder, more Hannibal-like, but it also made everyone hungry for flesh. I didn't have it, but I wasn't scared to go outside because I was really annoyed with the people I was stuck with, and the house was too small. I left.
As I was running along, people started hunting me because they thought I was a zombie. Which I clearly was not. I was laughing and smelling flowers and just enjoying life where everyone was off the streets. As people started to threaten me, I ran into this really nice house to escape, and two toddlers approached me. They were very articulate, clearly infected, and they both called themselves Colby. In fact, this infestation was something like a hive mind, an alien, that was one, but took over many humans and used their small brains to enact its small tasks. We became little hands of the bigger whole. A real collective consciousness. I took care of both the babies named Colby (what a STUPID name for a godlike infestation, right?!), but they wouldn't let me get infected and become smart like them. So I just hung out and enjoyed being around the little brains and away from the stupid house. But they found us, and they started to attack the house, so I woke up.
Or something like that. The details are fuzzy now, but it was a super real, super lucid, super narrative dream. The babies were really cute. And they respected me, so they didn't try to eat me. I liked their selection process - sorta like how we treat some animals as pets, eat others, and don't care at all about plants.
But I think I've got to stop eating chips and drinking Stella and watching Henson in the evening.