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I don’t recall much from last night, but the part that stands out in my RAM is that I was a police officer. I remember running up behind a bad guy, who was about 2 feet taller than me, and slamming my police baton into the back of his knee.


Theoretically, the person should then drop to ground, but not this guy.

He slowly turned around sporting a big grin on his face.
I whacked him again. He laughed.

I walloped him a good one. He chuckled.

I did a flying overhand crack to the skull. He was laughing hysterically.

Then he proceeded to beat the living snot out of me. He left me laying there, just a lumpy bag of skin and protruding bones.

Then I woke up, sweating, my back feeling like my spine was sticking out.

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The other night I was at work. In the back door came four RCMP officers looking for me. They had come to tell me that I had been drafted. They arrested two co-workers of mine, Jeff and Jack, as well as myself, and took us away for training. Why the RCMP I don’t know.

We jump forward in time, to the jungles of Afghanistan. Apparently there are jungles in Afghanistan, who knew. The three of us are pinned down, a huge firefight all around us, and our situation is looking pretty grim.

As we fire round after round at the Taliban, Jack starts to back away from us, spins around, and runs away. Gone.
The enemy is all around us and he just runs off ! Bugger !

We call him by radio to come back and help, or it is certain death for us. He calls back, refusing to help.

We fought hard, killing enemy after enemy. We took a beating, and badly wounded, we emerged victorious.

We needed to find Jack and make him pay.

 

Then I woke up.

Last night I found myself in Bangkok, Thailand.

I was staying at a very posh hotel in the downtown, but had wandered away for the day for some shopping.

Upon returning to the hotel from my shopping trip, I was suddenly surrounded by gunfire. Shots were all around me , cars were on their sides, upside down, some smashed, some burning. Chaos was everywhere.

I was only about 100 metres from the hotel, but couldn’t get back because of so much gunfire.

Now they were after me. Tracer was flying by me on both sides. I actually tried to dodge the tracer as it whizzed all around me, and found I could not. A round slammed into my hip. Another into my leg. As I spun around another tore into my back. Searing, white hot, burning pain went through my body. My spine felt on fire.

I finally struggled to the lobby of the hotel, where a firefight was in progress. I could see staff hiding behind the front desk, occasionally  rising to fire on unknown assailants.

I crawled to the elevator. They had been shut down because of the battle, a sign warning guests to stay in their rooms.

I crawled and crawled along a maze of hallways – ending up in an underground shopping mall. Not speaking the language, I had no idea who was my friend and who was my foe. I tried to pull myself into various shops, but as I approached each one machine gun fire would keep me away.

I finally crawled into –  a brothel !

No one was around. I hid.

Then it all stopped. I could hear cheering around me. I looked up. There was a man in a suit with an entourage about him, and people coming out of the shops cheering him on. Whoever he was, he had been the victor of the unrest.

But the pain from my spine was unbearable. Then I woke up, my back pain was the culprit.

Last night, while driving, I was stopped at a red light. The car stopped beside me suddenly reversed and spun around, tearing off in the opposite direction. It was an unmarked police car, as it lit up in sea of blue and red lights.

Another police car raced by going the other way. And another.

Although I continued along the road, I soon came to the place all those police cars were going. Getting out of the car, I could see a sniper and his accomplice. They were inside a high-rise, on the top floor, visible through the window. The sniper was firing down to the street. Shooting people. Shooting more people. Shooting at me. Shooting at the police.
I ran. I ran. I ran down the street, hiding in my childhood home, watching out the front window.

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I could see the sniper and his friend methodically shooting innocent people, as the two killers made their way down the street toward me.

They saw me !

They were both firing now, showering my home with bullets. I fired back. A huge firefight erupted. They advanced. I shot them dead. A bloody mess of dead.

Then I woke up.

Last night we were on a train , heading home from a convention. We were only about ten minutes away from our destination when the train slowly came to a halt.

We were puzzled by why we would be stopping, but eventually some police personnel made their way through the cars, demanding to see everyones documentation, and any valuables they were carrying.

This seemed rather odd, but as it turns out, one of the passengers did not mention that he was carrying a sandwich. The police then proceeded to seize all sandwiches, and warned us that any hidden sandwiches will result in dire consequences.

As we were waiting for the sandwich police to finish up, I stood outside having a cigarette – despite the fact that I don’t smoke. I watched a helicopter circle and then proceed to head in for a landing on a five-story apartment building. I watched the chopper slow down, descend, touch the roof of the building, slide off the edge and fall to the street, showering pieces of debris as it hit the ground.

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I ran over, there was wreckage strewn everywhere, bodies and pieces of bodies littered the street. Fire everywhere. Then, out of the main wreck, emerged a young woman, unscathed.

She said “I’m fine, I’m fine.”  and walked away. Everyone else from the aircraft was dead.

The police from the train ran over, and arrested me for leaving the train.

Then I woke up.

I used to work for an aerospace company back in the 80’s and 90’s.

Last night I was back there, at my desk in the same building I used to be in, but the timeframe was modern day. For some reason there was no roof on the building, but at least it was a sunny day.

Along came a South Asian man walking along the aisle with his AK-47 shooting up the building and shooting as many people as he possibly could. To his left, to his right, constantly firing but with an arrogance that he was out for an afternoon stroll.

Of course we always had our weapons at our desks (?), so – after the initial shock wore off – I fired back and killed him.

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Then the jet fighters came.
They swooped in low coming right at us, firing missile after missile at us, destroying the building and everything in it. Bodies and heaps of twisted metal were everywhere. The fighters continued to shower us with missiles, until eventually….

We all died.

There was a lot more happening, but this is all I remember this morning.

Last night I was at a beautiful island resort on the ocean. There were three-storey condos on rolling hills with narrow twisty walled roads and lush vegetation.

I was looking out my condo window to the patio, and I saw a former co-worker of mine. I hadn’t seen Elaine in years, so it was great to see her now standing outside my door. I have no idea why she was there, but I was very happy to see her, so I opened the patio door and greeted her. We talked about old times and caught up on each others lives.

We then decided to take a drive around the resort in Elaine’s crappy old Nissan Sentra. We drove around the twisty roads, catching up on life and talking about old times and old friends.

We crested a rise in the road, and as we came over the top, to our surprise the road was – GONE !  We were free-falling off the edge a cliff plunging toward the rocky ocean.

Somehow, we were out of the car, falling, falling, holding hands.  I assured Elaine that we will be fine, and all we have to do is dive into the ocean and we will surface in just a few seconds.

We both plunged to our deaths.

This one I have had numerous times. It starts out in my childhood home. As a kid I used to sit out front and watch airplanes landing at the nearby airport. They would fly right over our house, which is located in a quiet suburb, and the rear of the house backs onto a valley and a river. If you look in the distance from the front of the house, you could see the planes lining up, getting in position for the flight path to land.

In this nightmare, I am sitting out front watching the airplanes, just as I used to. Except at this time, I am an adult, in the present day.

All of a sudden one of the oncoming planes spins out of control, and crashes in a massive fireball just down the street. There are bodies and parts of bodies everywhere. Total mayhem. Then the next plane in line does the same thing, crashing just beyond the first one.
Then each of the oncoming planes drops paratroopers – nazi paratroopers . They are coming by the hundreds.
I run inside, watching out the kitchen window now. There is gunfire all around me, houses are being blown up. They are shooting at me, coming up the walkway. I am shooting back – sometimes the fighting is so close I am stabbing chests and slitting throats. I show no mercy.

As this is going on nazi tanks are coming from the valley behind the house. They are firing on the houses on our street, blowing them up and driving over them. A tank crashes through the back of the house. I am now in the basement, the tank is over me, and I attach some explosives to it. As it crashes through the front of the house, heading toward the street, it blows up. Screams of the crew can be heard. Good.
We fight all night – I kill dozens and dozens – in a merciless and unemotional frenzy. I sever heads and place them on sticks – still wearing their helmets – to warn the others to stay away or I will kill them all too.
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After they have gained control I sneak around in the dark, killing each and every one of the guards by sneaking up on them and slitting their throats, or quickly twisting their heads and breaking their necks. No mercy.

I have been through this nightmare enough times to know where they are, and where they are going. With this advantage I can intercept them in their travel, or sneak up and kill them.
There is always lots of blood, and lots of guts. I usually win. In the few times I am about to die, I will wake up. Tired and exhausted from fighting all night long, the pain is very high.

It’s never a happy ending, whether I win or not.

Last night I learned to drive a nuclear submarine.
Not only was it my first crack at driving one of these things that has no windshield to see through, I was evading the nazi submarines who were closing in on us very quickly. A little bit stressful.
Not only was it my first crack at driving one of these things while the nazis are closing in on us, but Mr Molloy (grade 12 math teacher) was yelling at me and punching me in the shoulder. “You dunderhead!”

He was pissing me off, so, I’m sorry, I shot him five times. I couldn’t concentrate.

Eventually I crashed trying to steer through an underwater trench, and lay there under the twisted wreckage while we slowly drowned to death. My back was crushed so bad that my spine was sticking out.

That’s when I woke up. In pain. My back felt like my spine was sticking out.

Sorry, about wrecking the sub, killing every one on board, and shooting Mr. Molloy.

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When I got home from work today, I was very tired, so I went and had a nap.
Then the aliens attacked.
Not your average “Hello we come in peace and want to explore your planet” aliens, but the ” AAAaaaaarggh we are going to kill and eat you all and destroy your planet!” aliens. Yeah, those ones.
They were like giant glow worms with massive teeth and fangs, and were killing everyone, either with their teeth, or they would just nuke everyone with their laser-powered eyeballs.
We fought for months – maybe years – and eventually came up with nuclear weapons to kill these planet-stealing aliens.
We were pretty happy that we had finally defeated them.
Back in our library (?) I went to a bookshelf and grabbed a book. Behind it was …
a baby glow worm alien with giant fangs.

Then I woke up.

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