My horrible Dream

So this weekend I had the most disturbing dream I have ever had in my 28 years on this earth. It is very rarely something badly affects me so I thought I would share it with strangers on the Internet. Becuase Im good like that.

The dream began with me walking into a deserted cold-looking building. It became very apparent that I was wandering aimlessly within it. I get to the front desk and there was nobody there, to be fair I had no idea what I was doing at the front desk so I didnt think much of it. I turned around to see that the front of the buliding has these big fancy glass walls and there were two men dressed totally in black, masks over their faces and carrying machine guns while holding the doors open. Now I had absolutely no idea what was happening.

They held the doors as dozens of people were marched in by four other men dressed the same carrying the same guns. I ducked down and hid behind the front desk as the crowd marched past it. None of them were screaming or pleading for their lives, they seemed resigned to their fates. The two guys at the front closed the front doors and put comically large chains on the doors and followed the crowd at a bit of a distance. A slimmer more handsome mid-dream Steve had to find out what was happening so I followed them around a corner. Obviously mid-dream Steve fancies himself as a John McClane/Solid Snake figure. It is also disturbing that mid-dream Steve found a way to manifest a Die Hard/Metal Gear Solid scenario to feed his ego. Handsome prick.

So I get to the corner to see a the last few people being marched up a large stone staircase. It was a dissappearing into the horizon type scene. There was no door at the top as the stairs went so far up that I could not see where they were led. I tried to sneak around the corner to follow them but I gracefully tripped over my own feet and the two armed guys at the back heard me. I stood tall, nonchalantly down played my little tripping accident and stared at the masked dudes with the giant guns. One of them turned his head slightly to the side and shot me twice in stomach. I fell down.

I wasnt dead but i was tremendously injured. I figured the best thing to do was to play dead and wait for them to go up the stairs so I could drag my body to the doors and beat the shit out of them with their own guns. I then remembered the giant chains on the doors. It became clear that I would have to just wait and use my new “we killed that guy” persona to find out what their secret plans were.

A few more of these guys showed up and walked straight past me without even noticing my sexy yet seemingly dead body. They didnt even look at me, as if seeing a dead guy full of bullet holes was an everyday occurrance. Now I had to know what was going on. When this new group met the existing guys at the bottom of the stairs they took over the patrol after quickly being informed of whatever was going on.

I continued to stay perfectly still even though I had been shot twice in the stomach which couldnt not be helping the matter. My years of watching movies and playing video games, if nothing else, has tought me one thing. Being shot is a very bad thing. Usually leading to death or even worse…crappy last words to a younger less Maverick version of you. So I had to act.

In playing dead I had cleverly left my eyes open so that I could look around when the armed guys were busy with their guns and hostages. Should they look into the deep ponderous ocean of my eyes they would pass it off as a dead guy – a dead guy with a plan to save the world!

I moved my left foot and made a slight noise. They looked over but obviously thought nothing of it. I then moved my right foot. I threw a little bit of stone at the wall. My back was flat and both feet were planted. I was primed for a miraculous Heartbreak Kid Shawn Michaels type jump up when they came to investigate the noise. The first guy came over and asked why I was making so much noise groaning and moving my feet in a Die Hard villain type accent and stabbed my three times in the neck.



About thecityfathers

We sit around all day stroking our beards, clucking our tongues and discussing what's to be done with this Homer Simpson
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