Ásgrímur, lover of nature and eco-warrior, sat down to write a song about baby seals before breakfast, having no idea he would kill three people within the hour.
He would kill them in his sleep.
He would be cycling in his sleep.
There would be no witnesses.
My favorite's got to be catathrenia... for linguistic reasons, of course. A word you can sink your teeth into. Tastes like blueberry pie and mint tobacco. Flavor of the future. Arrr.
*it's a Wikipedia article. Not an actual catalogue raisonné, for sleep disorders do not constitute works of art -- not that I know of.