So last night, I almost died many times ...
Last night, our current president took up residence next door and was spying on us and surveying the land. Apparently he wanted our property from some ulterior motive, and his wife was a "moderate Muslim" (an Arab or Turkish woman -- not quite sure on my nationalities, sorry -- who wore fairly modern clothing with a headscarf, face exposed) who at one point decided to clean our home, decorate it according to "the Muslim aesthetic", and cook us dinner, of which I was sure my mother would disapprove. I tried helping her get some baked pig or something out of the oven (looked rather unsavory, whatever it was), e.g. opening the oven door for her, and she basically ignored me, and proceeded to spritz the pan and oven rack with some cleaning fluid or water before grabbing the pan with some paper towels (because that's how you get things out of an oven that's been at 450 F for ~30 min: Water and paper towels).
At one point I confronted him, letting him know I was aware that all he had to do was command our property confiscated and give some nonsense reason to the media and the general public would accept it, and that I would do everything I could to stop him. He acknowledged that such was the case -- and would be the case -- in vague terms that could be interpreted as innocent, but which clearly weren't. From that point the matter became kind of a "secret agent vs. Mafia leader" situation, and, after trying on his too-small blue-and-white striped bathrobe in a timeshare/condominium connected to his (perhaps I had snuck into his apartment to try on his bathrobe), and finding something sticky in one of the arms, and having him angrily grab his bathrobe from me, I found myself targeted by two of his henchmen (who were black youth, brothers, a big one in his late teens, the other small, in his early teens), who nearly strangulated me ...
Somehow I managed to break free, incapacitating them by way of injury, and then it was my responsibility to stop them from murdering two women (separately) who were already known as Christian saints (perhaps 14th century). There was a great deal of commotion around the third or fourth-floor walkway (3.5th-floor?), with one of the saints apparently about to kill herself (i.e. jump from a ledge), and I approached her to intervene, a great crowd filling the sides of the walkway by that point. And then the bishop (possibly the bishop of Rome, likely some former Pope like Pius XII) proceeded with a train of people behind him holding up the Eucharist above a ciborium, ready to give Communion, distributing Holy Communion, and I had to receive kneeling on the tongue, although I had just received about ten seconds earlier, and then the president pushed his way past everyone with three or four adult henchmen of various nationalities to finish murdering this saint (or continuing to try to kill her), a white woman with blonde hair wearing one of those old English corset-dress things.
Next I was married (as someone else, not myself -- like I was really kind of a spectator) and my wife seemed distant from me although she insisted she wasn't, and a friend of mine (who was apparently Severus Snape as played by Alan Rickman) was taunting me in my parents' kitchen declaring she would be his soon, telling me (or him) reasons why she was as she was, that she was slipping away and wasn't it a shame. [There also appeared to be elements of Mario Kart 64 in his conversation -- perhaps two things were going on in my brain at the same time then.] I joined her in the arcade room (long since closed, lights off, no one there, dust gathering on the floor and sides of the arcade machines -- but apparently this room was connected either to our store or our house, and was public-access) by the pinball machine where we met, where she'd spent a great deal of time, where she had been awarded an Outstanding Achievement Award for apparently getting some really high score as a multiple of 30 (like, 30 billion points or something). I was trying to address the rekindling of our passion, and to let her know I was there for her, and she insisted everything was fine.
That's about all I can remember. It was difficult to remember any of it at first. Inspiration includes politics, James Bond, the condominium I stayed at in Naples, FL, previous reading and writing, Trigun episode 2, the last Harry Potter movie, Catholic Answers Forums, Top Gun.
At one point I confronted him, letting him know I was aware that all he had to do was command our property confiscated and give some nonsense reason to the media and the general public would accept it, and that I would do everything I could to stop him. He acknowledged that such was the case -- and would be the case -- in vague terms that could be interpreted as innocent, but which clearly weren't. From that point the matter became kind of a "secret agent vs. Mafia leader" situation, and, after trying on his too-small blue-and-white striped bathrobe in a timeshare/condominium connected to his (perhaps I had snuck into his apartment to try on his bathrobe), and finding something sticky in one of the arms, and having him angrily grab his bathrobe from me, I found myself targeted by two of his henchmen (who were black youth, brothers, a big one in his late teens, the other small, in his early teens), who nearly strangulated me ...
Somehow I managed to break free, incapacitating them by way of injury, and then it was my responsibility to stop them from murdering two women (separately) who were already known as Christian saints (perhaps 14th century). There was a great deal of commotion around the third or fourth-floor walkway (3.5th-floor?), with one of the saints apparently about to kill herself (i.e. jump from a ledge), and I approached her to intervene, a great crowd filling the sides of the walkway by that point. And then the bishop (possibly the bishop of Rome, likely some former Pope like Pius XII) proceeded with a train of people behind him holding up the Eucharist above a ciborium, ready to give Communion, distributing Holy Communion, and I had to receive kneeling on the tongue, although I had just received about ten seconds earlier, and then the president pushed his way past everyone with three or four adult henchmen of various nationalities to finish murdering this saint (or continuing to try to kill her), a white woman with blonde hair wearing one of those old English corset-dress things.
Next I was married (as someone else, not myself -- like I was really kind of a spectator) and my wife seemed distant from me although she insisted she wasn't, and a friend of mine (who was apparently Severus Snape as played by Alan Rickman) was taunting me in my parents' kitchen declaring she would be his soon, telling me (or him) reasons why she was as she was, that she was slipping away and wasn't it a shame. [There also appeared to be elements of Mario Kart 64 in his conversation -- perhaps two things were going on in my brain at the same time then.] I joined her in the arcade room (long since closed, lights off, no one there, dust gathering on the floor and sides of the arcade machines -- but apparently this room was connected either to our store or our house, and was public-access) by the pinball machine where we met, where she'd spent a great deal of time, where she had been awarded an Outstanding Achievement Award for apparently getting some really high score as a multiple of 30 (like, 30 billion points or something). I was trying to address the rekindling of our passion, and to let her know I was there for her, and she insisted everything was fine.
That's about all I can remember. It was difficult to remember any of it at first. Inspiration includes politics, James Bond, the condominium I stayed at in Naples, FL, previous reading and writing, Trigun episode 2, the last Harry Potter movie, Catholic Answers Forums, Top Gun.