Dream (featuring The Olson)
I was trying to drive somewhere. It was dark and foggy and I couldn't see. I even bought more in the way of headlights but it didn't work. I thought maybe the problem was dust and mud on the front of the car. I pulled into a subdivision and up someone's driveway. I think maybe there was a little snow in their yard I could use to wipe the plastic covers of the headlights off, though it didn't work great. I heard people in the house, and someone came out and turned off the garden hose, then went back inside. I guess they were being friendly but were shy about a stranger being in their yard. So I used the hose and it helped, and went to leave. People started pulling up in the driveway, though, looking like maybe they were trying to block me in. I didn't wait to listen to what they had to say. I plowed through some european sports car, and me and my two companions got away. They chased us and I ended up having to plow through a chain link fence with a spool of barbed wire on top. In the process I ran it over and it put holes in my tires, but it stopped the people chasing me. I pulled the car around and hid it in an alley somewhere. We got out and noticed a tire shop not far. A guy had heard the noise and came down an outside strairwell leading from an upstairs apartment - it was his shop and he unlocked the door as we told him what we needed. He got behind the counter and handed my friend a bike tire. We realized it was a bike shop and he was a hippy or something, and we left.
We were in this strange kind of hillbilly town, out in the middle of nowhere. Run no so much by government but by the people who'd tried to block us in - principly one family. We may have asked someone where we could get a couple of car tires, and they pointed us to a bar. They told us to talk to one partiuclar guy, and he might be able to tell us - for a price.
We walked into the saloon - it was a rather rough place. One guy stood out as particularly seedy, but also the center of some attention. He was in the process of telling someone he'd been in the Spanish civil war, with the implication that he had deserted. "So, you were a traitor and fled?" She asked. "No," he said smoothly, "I fled from trechery."
I told the Spaniard that I required his services. "For what fee?" he asked. I informed him that I was told he would help me for $300. He laughed. "Three hundred for a job?" I told him that all he had to do was tell me where a tire store was, and he agreed to talk. We moved to an area off to the side where we could speak in private. He started going on about a woman in Spain. I asked what she was like. He grinned greedily. "She was bigger around than this table! She makes this table look small!"
"You like them fat?" He grinned greedily and nodded eagerly, spreading his arms wide. I remembered that the woman who put the hose out for me was rather big, and though she was associated with the bad guys who ran the town I thought I might be able to get her interested in the Spaniard. I started telling him that I knew such a woman, and as I spoke his eyes grew wilder and he ran his tongue across his teeth. At the same time, he started taking off his cowboy boots, and one at a time, replaced them with black high heels.
Despite his enthusiasm, I started to suspect that he wouldn't really be able to help us. Olson wasn't as convinced, so I left him talking and left the bar. Across the street I saw a huge catholic bookstore of some kind. Maybe this was some way I could get some help. I walked in and a lady greeted me, but before I even spoke I saw tires on display high up on one wall, along with big posters advertising a special that the catholic store was having in conjunction with Jiffy Lube. The lady told me those tires weren't exactly what I needed, but further down the street a few blocks was the tire store. I told her how I was on my way to World Youth Day in South Carolina. She said there was a typhoon there recently, but hoped it would all be okay by the time I arrived. I thanked her and left. I walked out into the dusty street, and Olson came hurrying over. He was about to speak but I interrupted him: I pointed down the street and said "a few blocks." "How do you know?" I nodded back at the catholic store. His got this disapproving look, but seemed glad we had our answer.
We moved in that direction. I think we visited the store but found it would be closed for a few hours. Something else strange happened, and we each got a super power. I was able to "fly" - nothing very impressive, but with care I could slowly move straight up off the ground. Olson was apparently able to turn into a dog.
We walked back up the street a bit, and he pulled us into a strange buffet place. At the door were five of six brothers of the bad family. You had to hand them a flier to get in - they were wanted posters featuring our pictures, printed on bright orange paper. Olson handed the brother his, and asked "do you really look at these carefully, or just take them and move people on?" The guy said that he just kinda grabbed them and didn't really inspect the people who walked past him. As we moved away from the door I bumped Olson a little and asked what the hell he thought he was doing taking a risk like that. The floor slanted upward at a steep angle all the way to the back wall, and the food was on buffet tables against the side walls and in a big block taking up the middle of the room. At the back, where the floor was raised up to at least a story in height, was the counter where you paid. People walked in the left door, went up, paid, then down the other wall and out the right door, grabbing food along the way. It was mostly greasy and nasty and that made me even more annoyed with Olson - most of it was meat anyway. As we walked out, though, I saw some decent fried chicken and it was him trying to hurry me out of the place as I picked out the best pieces. Somehow he got captured, maybe while I ate.
I ran and hid for a while, and tried to figure out how to rescue him. After some recon I discovered that the brothers had put him, in dog form, out on a very small, caged balcony several stories up on one of their buildings, facing an alley. I snuck back there and wondered how to get to him. Somehow I remembered my ability to fly. I think a puddle that said she was a god might have reminded me. I started flying up slowly and found Olson, but realized it would be hard to open the cage without the puppies falling out. The litter was snuggling up against him as if he was their mother, and I realized that the brothers must have decided to keep him to be a surrogate parent for the pups - who knew where they got them. I managed to get the cage open, and told Olson "come on," but his doggy face just looked at me, then maybe went back to licking the puppies. I didn't understand, and suddenly I started to slowly lose altitude. I looked down and saw the puddle wiggling, and tendrils of water sort of forming two sine waves at me. I asked if she had the flight power too and she said yes. There might have been something flirtatious going on with her, but I was more worried about the brothers not catching me at the moment. I asked why she had to stop my flight. She said in a voice filled with wisdom, "He has chosen this path in life, to remain a dog and care for these puppies. You must accept his decision."
I thought about how Jenny and the whole family really are pretty nuts about animals, but that this was a whole new ballgame. But there was no arguing with what the puddle goddess said, I knew she had to be right. So I left town.
We were in this strange kind of hillbilly town, out in the middle of nowhere. Run no so much by government but by the people who'd tried to block us in - principly one family. We may have asked someone where we could get a couple of car tires, and they pointed us to a bar. They told us to talk to one partiuclar guy, and he might be able to tell us - for a price.
We walked into the saloon - it was a rather rough place. One guy stood out as particularly seedy, but also the center of some attention. He was in the process of telling someone he'd been in the Spanish civil war, with the implication that he had deserted. "So, you were a traitor and fled?" She asked. "No," he said smoothly, "I fled from trechery."
I told the Spaniard that I required his services. "For what fee?" he asked. I informed him that I was told he would help me for $300. He laughed. "Three hundred for a job?" I told him that all he had to do was tell me where a tire store was, and he agreed to talk. We moved to an area off to the side where we could speak in private. He started going on about a woman in Spain. I asked what she was like. He grinned greedily. "She was bigger around than this table! She makes this table look small!"
"You like them fat?" He grinned greedily and nodded eagerly, spreading his arms wide. I remembered that the woman who put the hose out for me was rather big, and though she was associated with the bad guys who ran the town I thought I might be able to get her interested in the Spaniard. I started telling him that I knew such a woman, and as I spoke his eyes grew wilder and he ran his tongue across his teeth. At the same time, he started taking off his cowboy boots, and one at a time, replaced them with black high heels.
Despite his enthusiasm, I started to suspect that he wouldn't really be able to help us. Olson wasn't as convinced, so I left him talking and left the bar. Across the street I saw a huge catholic bookstore of some kind. Maybe this was some way I could get some help. I walked in and a lady greeted me, but before I even spoke I saw tires on display high up on one wall, along with big posters advertising a special that the catholic store was having in conjunction with Jiffy Lube. The lady told me those tires weren't exactly what I needed, but further down the street a few blocks was the tire store. I told her how I was on my way to World Youth Day in South Carolina. She said there was a typhoon there recently, but hoped it would all be okay by the time I arrived. I thanked her and left. I walked out into the dusty street, and Olson came hurrying over. He was about to speak but I interrupted him: I pointed down the street and said "a few blocks." "How do you know?" I nodded back at the catholic store. His got this disapproving look, but seemed glad we had our answer.
We moved in that direction. I think we visited the store but found it would be closed for a few hours. Something else strange happened, and we each got a super power. I was able to "fly" - nothing very impressive, but with care I could slowly move straight up off the ground. Olson was apparently able to turn into a dog.
We walked back up the street a bit, and he pulled us into a strange buffet place. At the door were five of six brothers of the bad family. You had to hand them a flier to get in - they were wanted posters featuring our pictures, printed on bright orange paper. Olson handed the brother his, and asked "do you really look at these carefully, or just take them and move people on?" The guy said that he just kinda grabbed them and didn't really inspect the people who walked past him. As we moved away from the door I bumped Olson a little and asked what the hell he thought he was doing taking a risk like that. The floor slanted upward at a steep angle all the way to the back wall, and the food was on buffet tables against the side walls and in a big block taking up the middle of the room. At the back, where the floor was raised up to at least a story in height, was the counter where you paid. People walked in the left door, went up, paid, then down the other wall and out the right door, grabbing food along the way. It was mostly greasy and nasty and that made me even more annoyed with Olson - most of it was meat anyway. As we walked out, though, I saw some decent fried chicken and it was him trying to hurry me out of the place as I picked out the best pieces. Somehow he got captured, maybe while I ate.
I ran and hid for a while, and tried to figure out how to rescue him. After some recon I discovered that the brothers had put him, in dog form, out on a very small, caged balcony several stories up on one of their buildings, facing an alley. I snuck back there and wondered how to get to him. Somehow I remembered my ability to fly. I think a puddle that said she was a god might have reminded me. I started flying up slowly and found Olson, but realized it would be hard to open the cage without the puppies falling out. The litter was snuggling up against him as if he was their mother, and I realized that the brothers must have decided to keep him to be a surrogate parent for the pups - who knew where they got them. I managed to get the cage open, and told Olson "come on," but his doggy face just looked at me, then maybe went back to licking the puppies. I didn't understand, and suddenly I started to slowly lose altitude. I looked down and saw the puddle wiggling, and tendrils of water sort of forming two sine waves at me. I asked if she had the flight power too and she said yes. There might have been something flirtatious going on with her, but I was more worried about the brothers not catching me at the moment. I asked why she had to stop my flight. She said in a voice filled with wisdom, "He has chosen this path in life, to remain a dog and care for these puppies. You must accept his decision."
I thought about how Jenny and the whole family really are pretty nuts about animals, but that this was a whole new ballgame. But there was no arguing with what the puddle goddess said, I knew she had to be right. So I left town.