interning and massacre
Had a fucking strange dream last night. I don't remember most of the beginning, but somehow I ended up being an intern to Neil Gaiman. The fact that it was Neil Gaiman wasn't important in the least, but remains nonetheless.
While out driving and learning about life lessons with good old Neil, we came upon a big green truck that was shooting people as they drove by. This was on a very isolated country road. They tried to shoot us, got a window, and kept on going the opposite direction as us. We escaped with nothing much more than a scare and a lot of glass scratches. But, we were pretty well freaked out, it's not every day that, while interning with Neil Gaiman in my case, you get shot at on a back country road.
As we drive on though, things get steadily worse. We see that in their path, the drive by bumpkins have been shooting at houses, people, animals, and anything else along the way. The scope of their havoc was pretty wide, and very destructive. One house was missing half of it's screened in porch. We saw a guy in coveralls sitting on a wooden railing with a girl who was nursing his bloody shoulder stump, both of them riveted with holes and covered in the sticky redness.
Then we came to "Neils House." Somehow, I had managed to convince Neil to let me bring my dog when I was interning with him. Ichabod was howling, and I could hear in it the pain and anger that he was feeling. There was blood on the chain linked fence, and the tree in the sideyard. The bastards had shot my dog, a shell blew off part of his bottom jaw, and grazed his side, so that he was a trembling mess of fur and very upset dog when I got to him. I ran into the backyard, held my howling and bloody pup, and sobbed with him, cursing, and telling Ichabod that mom was here, he's be okay, I was sorry, I loved him. He told me in his doggy way how upset and hurt he was, that he loved me too, and bled all over me as he shook in my arms.
Then I woke up.
For me, losing Ichabod would be much like losing a child. If someone hurts him, I'll probably go into psycho mom rampage mode.
*goes to snuggle with her doggie for a while*
While out driving and learning about life lessons with good old Neil, we came upon a big green truck that was shooting people as they drove by. This was on a very isolated country road. They tried to shoot us, got a window, and kept on going the opposite direction as us. We escaped with nothing much more than a scare and a lot of glass scratches. But, we were pretty well freaked out, it's not every day that, while interning with Neil Gaiman in my case, you get shot at on a back country road.
As we drive on though, things get steadily worse. We see that in their path, the drive by bumpkins have been shooting at houses, people, animals, and anything else along the way. The scope of their havoc was pretty wide, and very destructive. One house was missing half of it's screened in porch. We saw a guy in coveralls sitting on a wooden railing with a girl who was nursing his bloody shoulder stump, both of them riveted with holes and covered in the sticky redness.
Then we came to "Neils House." Somehow, I had managed to convince Neil to let me bring my dog when I was interning with him. Ichabod was howling, and I could hear in it the pain and anger that he was feeling. There was blood on the chain linked fence, and the tree in the sideyard. The bastards had shot my dog, a shell blew off part of his bottom jaw, and grazed his side, so that he was a trembling mess of fur and very upset dog when I got to him. I ran into the backyard, held my howling and bloody pup, and sobbed with him, cursing, and telling Ichabod that mom was here, he's be okay, I was sorry, I loved him. He told me in his doggy way how upset and hurt he was, that he loved me too, and bled all over me as he shook in my arms.
Then I woke up.
For me, losing Ichabod would be much like losing a child. If someone hurts him, I'll probably go into psycho mom rampage mode.
*goes to snuggle with her doggie for a while*