Before I woke up with "The Thrill is Gone" playing by Chet Baker, I had a horrible nightmare. I will try to recount it as truthfully as a liar such as myself can.
Several people that I studied abroad with in Vietnam were in this dream. I shall leave their names out to protect their identities and their integrity as well. Since my dreams are erotic, violent, and more or less stupid.
And so it begins, we were all late trying to catch a flight to Seattle. The plane was leaving and since I am sure I know it rains a lot in Seattle, it was raining at the airport where we were meant to depart from. I sat eating something that escapes my memory and shortly after we all boarded the plane.
None of us were in the same row and I think that bothered me. The plane took off, I wondered how the people in first class were doing and the next thing I know the plane is driving down a long road and eventually comes to a complete stop in a Cull-De-Sac of suburban homes. Turns out, one of these homes was mine but not really mine.
My father and mother who both resided in one of these McMansions agreed, that while the plane lay outside being fixed by Southwest airline's technicians we could all spend the night. The interior faintly resembled my actual house so when I entered I found nothing awry. What was daunting is that my middle school crush appeared out of nowhere and informed me that we would be sharing a room together. Since she is extremely attractive I hoped to spend the night with her in the same bed, but knowing my mother I knew she wouldn't allow it. I never asked for permission so I prepared to sleep on the floor.
Just before laying out all of the pillows to make room on the floor, with premeditated plans of getting up in the night and jumping into bed with her, my pops knocked on the door and asked me to check on my friends who were in the two upstairs rooms. Just to make sure that the group was settling in. They were.
In the first room, formerly my sister's room, My two guy friends were having at it with my female friend. One of my friends was totally in the nude and the girl of the two was wearing a white t-shirt and a kurtz hat while she moaned half enthused before my other friend went in to do a little fornicating himself.
I took a good look. A substantial look that would classify me as a pervert. After fulfilling my desired viewpoints of the romp I turned to look in the other room where another two male friends were just lying on the bed, stomachs down. I saw no breath, nor did they make any sort of movement so being that it was a dream I did not check and went back downstairs.
My middle school crush told me that my bed was far too cold and I then prepared her for romance by saying I would get in there with her because I had excessive body heat, which could have been a turn on to her or just made her feel like my energy Chakra's were all out of kilter.
One foot was in the bed, but I was stopped as my dad once again knocked on my door and told me that something was not right upstairs. I told him sex was normal and not to worry. He said that that was not his primary concern and that it would be a good idea for me to go upstairs. As I go to the top of the doorway I found the doorknob missing. Sticky raspberry jam like blood was around a hole where the brass should have been. I just pushed the door open.
A large male was standing with a sadistic smile on his face. His forehead was larger than it should have been and he had a massive cob of corn in his hands. I selfishly did not check to see if my friends were okay and realized that I needed to get downstairs to protect my middle school crush. It was obvious that his intentions were of ill will towards all.
I found a Louisville slugger by the bed and I told my middle school crush to stay safe. I picked up the bat. I never actually hit him. looking at his massive dome just gave me the different places where I could put enough of a dent to knock him out. My parents went to call the police. In all this danger I knew that I wasn't going to be able to save my middle school sweetheart and my friends upstairs were most likely dead. I also suspected that the Southwest Airlines technicians were not finished with their work on the plane.
No escape, this mad man with his cob of corn, and a damsel in distress.
I woke up from this with a headache and a desire for Klonopin. I found some. I didn't take it but I took it on the subway and I have felt a little ill at ease for the whole day because of it.
Why the corn? Why the airline inefficiency? Above all, why didn't Chet Baker pull me out of this one?
