Several women were staying over at our family's house, which was a combination of several of my old real-life houses. They were there for some kind of cultural exchange program and had a nice home-cooked dinner with us. I was responsible for one of them, and directed her to my sister's bathroom while I headed to my own. They seemed nervous about making too much noise and waking my mom, but I assured them the house was big enough to dampen the sounds. I fell asleep on my bed before I even made it to the shower.

In what may have been a separate dream, my mom and sister were at a local Chinatown market, looking into a stall (within a mall) that was selling art. The artist himself, an old Chinese man with wispy hair and glasses, was working on his next piece. Across his work table were several live young roosters, each the size of newborn chicks. One of them was trying to crow, but it came out more like a little yodel, very cute. The stall was partitioned off by hanging bamboo slats, and we viewed the inside through chinks in the partition. My mom decided to just head right in, as she claimed she knew the custom. I didn't think we were meant to go in, so I circled around the outside for a bit, waiting. When nothing happened, me and my sister finally went inside. Immediately, it opened up into a giant emporium, and we could see a door leading to the street. Quickly, we walked to an open mall area where it connected to both the outside and to a subway system. As we stood there deciding what to do next, we heard announcements that two killers were on the loose.

Immediately, I was in prison, a killer myself. There was a bed along the wall near the hallway and only a table and seat otherwise. I got news of two new killers coming in (not the same as the ones on the loose) and they opened my cell door to let me talk to them. My cell was right next to the outer door of the hallway, and they had stuck the two killers directly on the door, represented as two plastic airhockey pucks, red and blue. I started lecturing them about how I understood their horrible crimes, and how I've found out in jail that things can get better by being calm and learning new things. I went on like this for a good while before we got the same announcement about the two new killers on the loose.

Suddenly, I was following the car chase from a helicopter, watching as a small blue car flew down the highway. There were no cops in sight until it reached a sharp hairpin turn, and a giant brick of 12 cop cars careened around and most lost control. The blue car bumped into a large red pickup truck, which I thought would stop it for sure. But the truck instead sped up and started knocking other cars out of the way ahead. So I figured they were partners. I noticed that the truck was now basically ramming any small car it could find, so I though that they should put spikes underneath a stationary car to trick the driver into running over it. Instead, they sent one of their prisoners, an enormous bodybuilder type that looked like Stone Cold Steve Austin, except bigger. He ran up behind the pickup truck and stopped it with his bare hands.

Back in my prison cell, except now I was the bodybuilder. I was relaxing, talking to the woman from the cultural exchange, who was flirting with me. The door opens and I have a new visitor: Angelina Jolie. Apparently, she's my girlfriend, and she comes over to give me a hug. Before that can happen, I'm back in my own body and watching the scene. The man is grotesquely covered in sweat and grease, and I wonder how many steroids he's taken in his life.

posted by Larry at 9:16 AM