Dream Police.
Oh, I know. It's dreadfully boring to hear about other people's dreams. But I'm going to tell you about this one anyhow, because part of it is kind of funny and fannish.
So my mom and I were at the movies, watching the finale of ER (?), when a panic broke out, due to the polar bear (wtfpolarbear?!?) rampaging through the theater. We managed to hide until it went away and then crept out to the lobby where we realized the whole town was under siege by animals that had escaped from the zoo. Kudos to my brain for the editing and soundtrack on this scene; the part where the lion was stalking the dog--angry barking, dramatic yelp, silence--was most cinematic.
A radio announcement explains that the animals had gotten out when the zombies attacked the zoo. Naturally. We flee the theatre, find an abandoned taxi, and take it back to our hotel. Here follows an extended espionage type scene in which we discover that the illicit mortuary operating in the building next to our hotel room is trafficking in diseased corpse parts and is the source of the zombie plague. They realize we are on to them but we have evidence of what they've done & thus blackmail them into taking us back into town, to the Zombie Attack Refugee center. Safe at last!
As the Refugee center processes us for evacuation, I run into the CEO of my company. A word about our CEO, George: he is brilliant, kind, thoughtful, universally adored, a fearless doer-of-good who we all, quite unironically, call St. George. I am so happy to see George and to hear all about his plans to combat the zombies, and the legislation he is developing to prevent future zombie attacks, that it takes me several minutes to realize that he is GNAWING ON MY HEAD. Gasp! Oh, St. George, NO! You're ONE OF THEM!
And here my brain STOPS the action and says to dream-me, in a perfectly snotty tone of voice: And now you know how Dumbledore's fans felt when he died.
Yeah. My brain, apparently feeling I was not sufficiently grieved at the death of our beloved headmaster, has decided to chastise me in my sleep about it. Okay, brain. I stand corrected. It was a horrible loss to us all.
Now explain the polar bear.
So my mom and I were at the movies, watching the finale of ER (?), when a panic broke out, due to the polar bear (wtfpolarbear?!?) rampaging through the theater. We managed to hide until it went away and then crept out to the lobby where we realized the whole town was under siege by animals that had escaped from the zoo. Kudos to my brain for the editing and soundtrack on this scene; the part where the lion was stalking the dog--angry barking, dramatic yelp, silence--was most cinematic.
A radio announcement explains that the animals had gotten out when the zombies attacked the zoo. Naturally. We flee the theatre, find an abandoned taxi, and take it back to our hotel. Here follows an extended espionage type scene in which we discover that the illicit mortuary operating in the building next to our hotel room is trafficking in diseased corpse parts and is the source of the zombie plague. They realize we are on to them but we have evidence of what they've done & thus blackmail them into taking us back into town, to the Zombie Attack Refugee center. Safe at last!
As the Refugee center processes us for evacuation, I run into the CEO of my company. A word about our CEO, George: he is brilliant, kind, thoughtful, universally adored, a fearless doer-of-good who we all, quite unironically, call St. George. I am so happy to see George and to hear all about his plans to combat the zombies, and the legislation he is developing to prevent future zombie attacks, that it takes me several minutes to realize that he is GNAWING ON MY HEAD. Gasp! Oh, St. George, NO! You're ONE OF THEM!
And here my brain STOPS the action and says to dream-me, in a perfectly snotty tone of voice: And now you know how Dumbledore's fans felt when he died.
Yeah. My brain, apparently feeling I was not sufficiently grieved at the death of our beloved headmaster, has decided to chastise me in my sleep about it. Okay, brain. I stand corrected. It was a horrible loss to us all.
Now explain the polar bear.