Gunshy?
So before I forget about it I thought I'd record an interesting dream I had last night. That I've remembered it for this long kind of tells you how real it was at the time.
For whatever reason I'm accompanying a small group of gangsters to some kind of head honcho gathering. (too much "Crazy Tokyo Paradise" maybe?) It is this large mansion out a little ways from the city on a nice stretch of beach. As we get out of the cars I discover that I know I'm supposed to be a body guard. After entering the mansion we are immediately searched and our guns are placed in a plastic bin. I stand around my charge and after the meeting gets going leaders periodically wander off to talk in smaller groups, passing in and out of the main living room.
As one rival gangster passes by I notice him fidgeting with something in his pocket. A moment later I'm swinging my arm up to deflect a shot--at whom, I don't know but he has to be stopped--and following through with an elbow to his face that drops him flat on his back. As he falls my hands find his wrist and twist the gun towards his body. In another moment I have him pinned face down in a wrist lock, his gun laying between his shoulder blades where it fell with my heel pressed on top of it.
After the room begins to die down I see my charge's face in front of me before he places a hand on my shoulder. Relaxing off the killing edge I notice an empty space around me which none of the gathered gawkers dared to enter. My charge in slow deliberate movements retrieves the gun and places it into the plastic bin waiting in another bodyguard's hands. A couple men from our host's staff inject something into the gunman-turned-victim and carry him away. My eyes are riveted--as covertly as possible--to the bin containing everyone's guns. (yes everyone's, yes a small blue bin one person could carry. :shrug: its a dream) I don't have to follow the bin far, across from the sofa my charge is lounging in lies a door to a hallway. The bin-man carries the guns through that door and opens the door immediately in front of that where he places it in the middle of a small bathroom. Now I know to scrutinize anyone passing by there.
Several more attackers appear in the lounge room where I must guard my charge and those nearby. These all kind of blurred together, though I recall many variations on aikido techniques I know. In one case I had to weave through three gunmen to dispatch them. I had done something to each initially, stunned them with another move each on the second pass, and finally started mopping them up as I wove through the group the third time. By now I and getting very sick of dealing with gunmen and I practically stalk that bin.
I am loitering in the hallway when I notice someone surreptitiously duck into the bathroom and come walking down the hallway to me. He obliges me with the excuse to scuffle when he all but runs me over. A carefully careless foot winds up in his path and he takes exception by attempting a blow to my face. A quick duck and I'm crouching at his knees which get a helpful twist so he can consider his disposition on the floor. In our little scuffle I manage to slip the pistol from him and as we disengage I tuck it into the nearby potted plant. The gathered house enforcers are by now upon us and as my would be shooter advances angrily on me I give ground so the potted plant is away from notice. After appeasing the house guards I retrieve my stolen goods and feel more secure. I'll be damned if I'll play a target dummy all night.
Returning to my charge he notices the change in my mood. No longer am I the stiff backed cat, but am exuding the deadly calm of a hunting tiger. My charge relaxes himself and I note the hint of a smile on his face. Before I can understand the answer is thrown into my face in the shape of a falling body bursting through the doors. The mansion has erupted into gunfire and the last tense lines of civility in the group have snapped. I am now guiding my stooping charge through the mansion's war zone, periodically squeezing the trigger to remove an impediment to our progress. When the gun springs empty my other hand is already moving towards the gangster passing by a doorway. My hand finds his wrist and as it turns his head is forced into the door frame, depriving me of a round. Before my charge even noticed, I've nudged him over to a window over looking the garden and the gun's rounds have been counted and the magazine reloaded. A last dash to the thick bushes and safety and my dream fades out to the police sirens, which I slowly recognize as my alarm clock.
Wow, I didn't think I would remember that much of it. After I got started writing the memory came back almost as vividly as I remember the dream was. Well its late now so I'll head off to dreamland again.
For whatever reason I'm accompanying a small group of gangsters to some kind of head honcho gathering. (too much "Crazy Tokyo Paradise" maybe?) It is this large mansion out a little ways from the city on a nice stretch of beach. As we get out of the cars I discover that I know I'm supposed to be a body guard. After entering the mansion we are immediately searched and our guns are placed in a plastic bin. I stand around my charge and after the meeting gets going leaders periodically wander off to talk in smaller groups, passing in and out of the main living room.
As one rival gangster passes by I notice him fidgeting with something in his pocket. A moment later I'm swinging my arm up to deflect a shot--at whom, I don't know but he has to be stopped--and following through with an elbow to his face that drops him flat on his back. As he falls my hands find his wrist and twist the gun towards his body. In another moment I have him pinned face down in a wrist lock, his gun laying between his shoulder blades where it fell with my heel pressed on top of it.
After the room begins to die down I see my charge's face in front of me before he places a hand on my shoulder. Relaxing off the killing edge I notice an empty space around me which none of the gathered gawkers dared to enter. My charge in slow deliberate movements retrieves the gun and places it into the plastic bin waiting in another bodyguard's hands. A couple men from our host's staff inject something into the gunman-turned-victim and carry him away. My eyes are riveted--as covertly as possible--to the bin containing everyone's guns. (yes everyone's, yes a small blue bin one person could carry. :shrug: its a dream) I don't have to follow the bin far, across from the sofa my charge is lounging in lies a door to a hallway. The bin-man carries the guns through that door and opens the door immediately in front of that where he places it in the middle of a small bathroom. Now I know to scrutinize anyone passing by there.
Several more attackers appear in the lounge room where I must guard my charge and those nearby. These all kind of blurred together, though I recall many variations on aikido techniques I know. In one case I had to weave through three gunmen to dispatch them. I had done something to each initially, stunned them with another move each on the second pass, and finally started mopping them up as I wove through the group the third time. By now I and getting very sick of dealing with gunmen and I practically stalk that bin.
I am loitering in the hallway when I notice someone surreptitiously duck into the bathroom and come walking down the hallway to me. He obliges me with the excuse to scuffle when he all but runs me over. A carefully careless foot winds up in his path and he takes exception by attempting a blow to my face. A quick duck and I'm crouching at his knees which get a helpful twist so he can consider his disposition on the floor. In our little scuffle I manage to slip the pistol from him and as we disengage I tuck it into the nearby potted plant. The gathered house enforcers are by now upon us and as my would be shooter advances angrily on me I give ground so the potted plant is away from notice. After appeasing the house guards I retrieve my stolen goods and feel more secure. I'll be damned if I'll play a target dummy all night.
Returning to my charge he notices the change in my mood. No longer am I the stiff backed cat, but am exuding the deadly calm of a hunting tiger. My charge relaxes himself and I note the hint of a smile on his face. Before I can understand the answer is thrown into my face in the shape of a falling body bursting through the doors. The mansion has erupted into gunfire and the last tense lines of civility in the group have snapped. I am now guiding my stooping charge through the mansion's war zone, periodically squeezing the trigger to remove an impediment to our progress. When the gun springs empty my other hand is already moving towards the gangster passing by a doorway. My hand finds his wrist and as it turns his head is forced into the door frame, depriving me of a round. Before my charge even noticed, I've nudged him over to a window over looking the garden and the gun's rounds have been counted and the magazine reloaded. A last dash to the thick bushes and safety and my dream fades out to the police sirens, which I slowly recognize as my alarm clock.
Wow, I didn't think I would remember that much of it. After I got started writing the memory came back almost as vividly as I remember the dream was. Well its late now so I'll head off to dreamland again.