In world left asunder by war and poverty… a future that’s not that far… ahead…
Battles are no longer fought by armies and men, but by giant robots (but not like “Robot Jox” robots)…
They meet in a stone cold mountain ring, and battle to knock each other’s blocks off…
Starring Mark Wahlberg. (Seriously, he was in my dream.)
INGREDIENTS: Pitchers of beer + two cherry bombs.
It begins in a factory in subzero conditions, and the plant crumbles around me. Equipment fails. Alarms… alarm. In the distance, there are booming explosions and metal screams as it tears apart. There are three of us – the remaining workers – and we’re trying to escape. At an elevator platform that runs up an icy slope to freedom, we realize only two go at once. The largest worker, easily twice the size of me, sends the third guy and myself first. “I’ll be right behind you,” he bravely states as he mans the controls that send us up the slope.
Halfway up, the lift suddenly shrieks to a stop. It begins heading back down. We yell to our portly hero, wondering what’s happened, but we quickly realize we’re approaching our demise. The source of the factory’s destruction has found us; his intent is to killl. His name – Bender. (Yes, the robot from “Futurama.”) It turns out I’m in an episode of “Futurama.” (A very special episode, I guess.)
Cut to me watching the show in some seedy Downtown Anywhere bar with Jason Mewes and Kevin Smith (or Jay and Silent Bob, if you will… I’m unsure which incarnation they were in). We’re discussing the headquarters of our local superheroes, the Pantheon, and how it has no discernable entrance, but all the heroes know how to get in. Kevin-slash-Silent Bob (so maybe it was Kevin because he was chatty… but then again Silent Bob does have his moments) brings up the architecture outside of the heroes’ HQ.
“Have you noticed that over the years, the smaller the heroines’ tops get, the bigger the pillars seem to get?”
After kicking back a few more drinks, and I assume finishing the “Futurama” episode, we hit the streets. The three of us are about to veer left when two ladies in skimpy black-and-red plastic outfits approach from the right. They call out J&SB, so I keep walking. I meet an old lady at the corner who abruptly and repeatedly asks me, “Are those ho’s superheroes or prostitutes?” I continue walking home.
INGREDIENTS: four day old Hungry Howies pizza, Double Stuf Oreos, and organic milk, mixed with winning our softball game as well as Tampa Bay’s victory over Boston (boo-ya!), sprinkled with the softball team playing a punching arcade game at the bar.
Update: I originally pulled this because I didn’t like the ending, but my sister Becky had a dream end the same way for a week prior to mine, so it’s back for the weirdness of that.
Last night’s dream session was a doozy. It all began with me attending the brand new arena for the Colorado Avalanche; they were playing the Red Wings. But this was the new and enhanced version of hockey. The rink was squared, and there were goals at each wall – so two goaltenders per team.
As I made my way around the extravagant facilities, with the wide aisles, plush seats, carpeting, and fine dining. I came upon three of my friends, who incidentally wore the same long-sleeve polo shirt with one-inch green and navy blue stripes. I mocked them for matching, but the third friend swore his wasn’t the same… it was green and black stripes.
No one had noticed the accessory on my face – a bull nose ring. Rather than the ring being pierced through the flesh that keeps me from having one giant nostril (imagine that!), it was a metal clamp that was held together by a screw that went through my lip.
As I mingled with the masses, which included celebrities, the nose ring somehow came unattached and slipped into my mouth. It got lodged in my throat, so I hurried to the bathroom so I could hack it out.
In the marble and gold encrusted expanse that was the unisex bathroom, I politely tried to cough the ring out. Men and women were coming and going (no puns intended folks). Slowly but surely, the place emptied out. Even the bubble bath bathers were leaving. Once alone, I coughed up a storm (why I waited, I have have no idea… I must not have been choking since it was a ring).
Finally, I got it out and tried to figure out how to get the thing back on. Marty Scorsese came in at that point and we had some idle chit-chat in front of the mirrors. Another guy came in and brandished a gun. First, he pointed it at Scorsese, but then he aimed at me. I remember turning and the bullet struck me behind the ear on the left side of the head. I fell back and felt the warm spilling out my neck as Marty stood over me, telling me he missed.
Then I woke up. Must have been that taco salad I ate last night after watching the Wings game. And I think I might coming down with a cold since my nose is runny and my throat is scratchy… Oh, and I can’t take Thursdays anymore without my “30 Rock” fix! I miss Tina Fey. I love everything she does… even those commercials…
monkeyBLOG monkeyDO 