Dreamed I'd been put under psychiatric observation for an undisclosed reason. The only way to fake and maintain my sanity was to take a dose of vanilla extract. They knew I was faking, and were searching high and low for the bottle, though my efforts to hide it proved successful. I was able to escape, and made it to a seaside village, where an enormous storm wrought havoc, caused millions in damage and that partially sank a large cargo ship in the bay.
I sought comfort in downtown Tokyo. As I allowed myself to be overcome by the powers of the hookah, I turned towards the concubine and marveled at the delicate nature of her fingers. I rolled over to my right to grab a drink of some exotic beverage, then rolled back to continue my examination of the hand. "You know my dear...I was..." Something was wrong. Her fingers are suddenly so fat and hairy. What..the hell...is...
It seems that my cousin, in a most unusual way, had succeeded in tracking me down as I hid from the international authorities. Seeing an opportunity to scar me for life and get a good prank in, he donned a stolen wig and took her place. He was staring at me with that "got ya" look, when in a fit of fury, I assailed him with a flip-flop. Through screams of rage and laughter the message was finally communicated.
"What the hell are you doing here!?"
"We have a quest!"
"Oh no."
The next thing I know, we're in uncharted territory and running from some insane cult people who want to use us for human sacrifices. After several miles, and with the enemy nigh upon us, he took to hiding in a trash receptacle. I tried to hide behind a loose wall panel, but found the owners had been doomsday preppers, and thought it wise to store baby products in the walls. Feeling my death was imminent, I dove beneath a pile of newspaper, garbage bags, and general rubbish in an attempt to render myself invisible.
He told me it wouldn't work. When I asked him what to do, he responded "just use your crazy medicine!". To which I declared, "it's vanilla extract!". I burrowed my way as deep beneath the detritus as possible, and came across a suction cup arrow. The moment was upon us. I could hear them rummaging around. If we were discovered, then I would make such a stand with that arrow that it would be remembered for all time.
I arose slowly from the beneath the garbage, snuck behind the nearest tribe member, and struck with blinding speed and unmitigated fury as he turned. The suction cup arrow stuck fast to his forehead. His eyes stared up at it as he screamed in terror and agony, while I screamed with pure spartan rage. I twisted it, and popped it loose. He fell to the ground weeping and hysterical, clawing at the suction cup mark on his forehead. The others stared on in horror, as the thing from the garbage pile attacked without mercy. Many fell, but I left one to tell the tale.
Many more dreams followed, but that is for another time.
