Monday, October 24, 2016

Mouse dream

I forget the context of this dream, but here's the part that I remember from last night. I was in a room with furniture in it, and I was standing next to a center island or a large box or some sort of console when I saw this dark thing in my peripheral vision. When I turned and looked, it was gone. I focused again on the big boxy thing and in a couple of minutes, that same black little spot appeared. I turned my head slowly to take a look at it and it was a little mouse. It saw that I was looking at it, and stopped sniffing around. I turned to face it; it turned to face me. I took a step toward it and it didn't move. I continued advancing towards it, and it stood up on its hind legs. I slowly extended my hand down to it, palm up, and it did not run. Instead, it grabbed my fingers with its tiny forepaws and began sniffing around.

The dream gets a little fuzzy around here (no pun intended), but I seem to remember the mouse hopping up into my hand and either speaking to me there, or scurrying up my arm to my shoulder and talking there. I don't remember what was said.

Monday, June 27, 2016

Technology

I've been having a lot of dreams about technology recently, but none have really stuck in my mind. I just think it's notable that I've been dealing with tech problems in the past couple of weeks in all of my dreams. A few nights ago, I dreamed that I was working on a computer, and earlier in the day I had been. A couple nights before that, I dream that I had dropped my iPhone 6s, and in spite of the case and the screen protection, the screen that still cracked. In another dream, I was using my tablet for some troubleshooting. Instill another, every wireless signal that I had set up was wide open and users were getting plagued by viruses. Considering my line of work, none of these are pleasant dreams. In none of them did I resolve any problems; I simply came across a series of difficult problems and was unable to resolve them before I woke up.

Monday, May 23, 2016

Vanity of the hair

I don't remember a whole lot about this dream, but I was in a place with lots of mirrors. I was there with somebody else but I forget who it was. We were talking about nothing terribly important, because I was glancing around at all the mirrors: there were small ones, ornate ones, tall floor ones, and even a couple of the ceiling. (Whoever owned this place seemed to be quite vain.)

As I was glancing around, I happened to catch my reflection in one mirror which picked up another mirror behind me. There, on the crown of my head, was a massively large bald spot, the size of the palm of my hand. I looked at it, thinking to myself, "Christine would not let me get around looking that badly," and so figured that I had simply lost a significant clump of hair. This must've happened fairly recently, because I don't remember it looking like this in the past. I started looking around the room get a discrete sort of manner, not really expecting to find anything, but simultaneously hoping I would. As I scanned the room, my eyes caught another mirror and this one was passing along the reflection from one of the mirrors on the ceiling. I had another patch of baldness the same size sitting just off-center of the middle of my head. I decided that night I was going to cut my hair.

When I woke up this morning, the dream had felt so real that I had to check my head.

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Eaten by sharks

I have this strange recurring dream where I am eaten by sharks.  It used to be the case that I was swimming in murky waters and I would encounter a shark around the size of a tiger shark.  I would defeat it with my Bowie Knife, and it swam away, leaving a trail of blood.  As it swam away, the water would clear, and 25 feet away, looking right at me was a Mako shark that would make Jaws look like a porpoise.  It would swim fairly leisurely up to me, open its mouth and down I would go.  I wouldn't wake up quickly either, so my soul would leave my body, and I would be able to watch the shark finish eating me, and there would not be any pieces of me left in the water, but there would be some blood.

This was mostly inspired by a fear of sharks put there by Jaws and Deep Blue Sea, I'm sure.  If this wasn't the sole source, it was at least a contributor.

Now, more often than not, I am fed to a pair of large sharks, usually Makos or Great Whites, but there have been Hammerheads and Bulls as well.  In tonight's version of the dream, it was Great Whites.  I was thrown into the water (I have no idea from where or by whom, therefore it is just as likely that I fell in accidentally from an unknown place) and set upon in short order by one of them.  I fought with my first assailant with my fists, knowing that I was only prolonging the inevitable, when I was grabbed by the other one.  With that part of my body immobilized, the other one clamped onto the opposite limb.  Short work was made; first I was crippled and, very soon after, torn apart.

The funny thing is, my adrenaline gets going, but I am not afraid when faced with this inevitable.  The sharks are going to win, but I never let them take me down without a fight.  My normal mind panics at the sight of real blood, and I will get light-headed; from there, the room may spin and I will often need to sit down.  In these recent dreams, the ocean gets filled with blood and parts of me are strewn about in the best YouTube-quality shark-feeding-frenzy way.  However, when I wake up, I am not light-headed or terrified, just charged with self-defense adrenaline.

Dreams are funny, but not always laughable...

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Domingo in concert

I was going with my Dad to an outdoor concert hall to see Placido Domingo in concert. We stopped in a small town for a quick bite to eat at a small sandwich shop; just to describe how small it was, the sandwich shop's outdoor seating area was directly next to the parking lot, and there were no railings to divide the people from the cars. When we parked, the nose of his truck blocked a middle-aged couple from getting out of their bench seat on our side. The other side was right up against the wall. They had to crawl over the seats to get out. No one was upset, though; this was normal.

We got a sandwich, found some seating and talked about what we hoped to hear at the concert. Dad wanted a lot of opera, and I wanted a mix of things, particularly his Mariachi music.

We left the sandwich shop, and continued on our way to the concert. At the auditorium, I ran into a few people I knew, including Michael C, but having to go through the line to get the tickets, I was unable to say anything to any of them at first. Strangely enough, in the ticket line itself, there was another deli. (No, it's not Lent.)

After hearing the tickets, I found that Dad and I were sitting completely different sections of the auditorium. This was kind of sad, but it was what it was. We agreed to meet after the concert, and, after pointing out to each other where we were sitting, we parted ways.

Concert already started: Placido Domingo was singing a pop song while Santana wailed on his guitar. I liked it, but entire section of the audience left after that song was over. Santana then left the stage, and another pop singer came on the stage, although I don't recall who it was.

At this point, Michael C walked up to me and asked if I was enjoying the concert. I told him yes, but that I was hoping it would get better. He didn't have high hopes for this, but he agreed that he hoped it would get better.

Shortly after this, Domingo began an opera set, but they were poorly chosen selections. There were no crowdpleasers, only arias from little known operas, and it was all some of the most atonal music I have ever heard.

I looked around for Dad, to see if he was enjoying himself or not, and I couldn't find him. I looked around for my friends to see if any of them were still around, and I only saw the back of Michael C's head as he was leaving. Looking around at the auditorium, I saw that fully half of the seats were empty now.

Even though I wasn't enjoying what I was hearing, I could not bring myself to leave. After all, Domingo is easily one of my favorite singers. He has so much good repertoire that I was still hoping that what I was hearing would end. Within a few minutes, I was one of the few people left in the auditorium. I woke up before I found out if I was going to be the last one.

Sunday, March 09, 2014

Weddings and such

 I was driving along the Prince William Parkway to get to church to go to Mass. Along the way, I passed two police officers commuting to work in a Honda a Accord.  They looked like political caricatures; their only movements were the drivers hands in the wheel and the passengers hands on his smartphone.

When I arrived at Mass, Paul E, Sylvia S, and I went to Mass at a nice looking church; it was a church I'd never seen before, although it had a few elements of some of my favorite churches, as well as my childhood parish, St. Philip the Apostle in Dallas, TX.  Walking in, I didn't realize that it was the feast of the Annunciation, but Sylvia pointed that out to me.

The deacon read the readings in Latin, and the Gospel was in English.  The Gospel began with, "At that time, Jesus said to His disciples," and we all knew it was the wrong Gospel.  So did the priest, fortunately; either that, or he was aided by the fact that half of the congregation did not stand, while the other half that was standing had their eyebrows raised high.  (It was at this point that I noticed Mike and Carissa E, and Alex and Ashley S in attendance as well.  They were seated.  I was standing with Sylvia and Paul.)  The priest reread the correct readings, and when he announced the Gospel, everyone stood, because it was the right one.

The rest of Mass continued as normal, and sometime between the Agnus Dei and Communion, Sylvia had left the pew and had put on a wedding dress, as had Ashley S.  The suit that Alex was wearing turned out to be his morning dress.  Sylvia was getting married and Alex and Ashley were renewing their vows.  When the girls saw each other in their wedding dresses, high fives went around, and they came back from Communion to their pews positively giddy.  I think I might have even seen them hop down the aisle.

So, after Mass, Sylvia told me that even though her rehearsal was that day, the guy she was marrying was from Sweden, and she wouldn't be getting married in the States.  However, she wanted Christine and me to be there.  I gave the best promise I could, which felt like a weak promise, but I didn't know when the wedding was.  Nor did I ever find out; I woke up very soon after this point, as Sylvia was asking Ashley to be her fill-in matron-of-honor and Paul to be the fill-in groom for the rehearsal.  It was when the priest came out of the sacristy and asked if she was ready for the rehearsal that I popped awake.

Choir rehearsal

Joe M and Paul E were staying at the same bachelor house, to which I went for rehearsal for something.  Upon arriving there, I parked in front of a median with a large tree that had been chopped down and was piled there.  It was pouring buckets, so I stuck around until nearly midnight when the rain slackened.  I ran outside to my car to find that it wasn't there.  I walked up and down the street , wondering if it had been towed or stolen only to find that I couldn't find it...

...ready for this?...

I couldn't find it because I was driving it.

I woke up, and resisted the urge to go check on my car.

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Slapfish - bathroom break!!!

I don't know how this started, but I was working for a grocery store, and another clerk and I were having a contest in bagging customers' items. We had both been doing as much fancy bagging as we could, when all of a sudden, he pulled out a paper bag, grabbed a large fish and threw it in. With a massive splash, water came gushing out of this paper bag... ...and I woke up, really needing a bathroom break.

Friday, June 17, 2011

Work

I had a very strange yet realistic dream about work last night. I was doing my typical computer support, except that we had a new support system in place.

Of course, now that I'm sitting down to type it up, I can't remember what it was. I only remember being really impressed by it.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Touring in Poland

America was at war.  The troops were deployed, and patriotism ran true in every American's blood.  The SCL received a call to sing a concert in Poland for the troops.  It wasn't a very busy spot, but it was a deployment central.  We were working on a program, when something came up with my work schedule and I couldn't attend.  I was so disappointed that I woke up.

Monday, May 03, 2010

Singing in the Colosseum

I was singing with the Palestrina Choir from Christendom under the direction of Dr. P, and it consisted of everyone who had ever sung with that choir (so it was bigger than it ever was in real life). We received an invitation to sing at the Roman Colosseum with another choir, I think the Vatican Choir. Anyway, so for some reason, when we arrived at Rome, the director of the Vatican choir took one look at me and said, "I didn't want EVERYone."

On a side note, having never been to the real Colosseum, my mind associated the exterior with the stage. Each person had their own individual window, and they were all stacked on top of each other, so there were no rows of people standing behind each other.

Anyway, everyone else took their places in the Colosseum-windows including Dr. P, who sang in my place when he wasn't directing. Out of a massive choir, I could easily see Brittany and Beth, as they had ground and second row positions, and when I looked around, everyone else had blended into the structure well. When they began singing, the sound was an absolutely glorious one, but one dominated by the Palestrina Chorale. While the director was busy patting himself on the back for such a fantastic idea of blending his choir with Dr. Poterack's, all the while suggesting to his own choir that they paled in comparison to Christendom's.

So, after listening to the whole practice, I had to evacuate, because it was a sold-out house, to standing-room only, and even that was filled to overflowing. The choir was supposed to wait in their positions for the audience to come in (which they did in droves).

Since there was nothing for me to do except either listen to the concert from outside or go exploring, I did the latter, since I had heard the practice. Unfortunately for both of us, I don't remember this part of the dream.

Friday, April 16, 2010

Christine's Ring

Christine's engagement ring was back in my possession for some oddball reason. She had taken it off and given it to me to keep for a while. I was inspecting it closely, and noticed that there was some glue on the side of the ring, covering one of the diamonds.

The ring was different than the one that I have actually given her, but in this dream reality it was the one I had given her. It had no rubies on the sides, only diamonds, and only 12 total (plus the center stone). It ended up being much more blocky than the one she really has.

Anyway, so I noticed that there was glue or some sort of other hard substance covering one of the diamonds. I scraped it off, and when it came right off in my hand, I disregarded it and flicked it onto the ground. I checked out the ring, and thought something didn't look quite right. Turns out that there was a hole where the glue had been. I quickly searched the ground and found it. The diamond had fallen out when I cleaned the ring.

At this point I was surprised that the diamond had fallen out. As I tilted the ring, another diamond looked loose. When I moved the ring again, the same diamond dropped out of the ring. And then the center stone started rotating, as though it was about to fall out as well. I took it to the jeweler to fix.

Here's where the dream starts to get a little whacky. As if it wasn't already.

For some reason, I was in a tuxedo with tails. Christine was with me, and she was in an evening gown. When we went into the jeweler, I tossed my jacket onto a counter where a valet removed it, and then found my salesman. I showed him what happened, and he took the ring and the loose diamonds to the jeweler in the back. He said that it would probably take 1-2 hours to fix and reset, and they would throw in a cleaning for free.

Christine and I went to a dance class while waiting for the ring to be fixed. Oddly enough, in order to get there, we had to go downstairs to the basement of the jeweler, in what felt like a dungeon. The dance instructor knew Christine (of course), and knew me through her, and stated that she was really worried about me dancing in boots.

When we went through the dungeon, we entered a stadium-seating arena, which is where our class was being held. We were on stage. I woke up before we started dancing...

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Out of water

There had been some sort of natural disaster and that Christine's house was running out of water. There was a pipe leading from the well to her landlord's house, her house, and the house across the street which had ruptured, and all the water was leaking out. I remember that one of the men working on it was called AJ, and that he was freaking out, because he thought the world was coming to an end.

Kateri S. showed up; she had been invited to a party across the street, and no one had noticed that the water was running out.

I saw another hole in a rubber tube from which the water was running, and when I tried to stop it, the tube broke and kept leaking. No one else around me had any other ideas, so they all just shrugged their shoulders...

Monday, January 04, 2010

Jailed for what?

America has changed dramatically. It's 2010, a year that I thought would never come, and it's the summer. The president of the country has let his true socialist colors show, and has elected officials who have taken their power to extreme measures. The common people of America were jobless and homeless. They could resolve neither problem because of the country's messed up policies towards the jobless and homeless: you could only buy a home if you have sufficient means, and you can only get a job if you have a job, or if you have 10 years experience in the field, something rare among the common people. Meanwhile, they were also punished for being jobless and homeless. In other words, they were punished because they were unable to follow the rules that were designed to exclude them.

Secret police were everywhere. Government property was not clearly marked and had become entirely private. National parks were closed to visitors. A handful of public trails remained for "entertainment of the masses". This was one of the few entertainments that they had left, as the bourgeoisie had taken everything of value. One of them had reopened perhaps only 0.5% of what had been public property for the benefit of the 95% that weren't them. From this reopening of the 0.5%, he had scored the benefit of making himself appear to be the true benefactor for the lower classes of people. By his one act of kindness, he was the self-appointed messiah to us all.

Of the 95% of people outside the bourgeoisie, a full 50% consisted of the jobless and homeless. The other 50% that had jobs and homes were forced into sharing small homes and dead-end jobs. We were monitored everywhere for the maintaining of "happiness".

Well, I was one of the fortunate ones who had a job: it wasn't much, but it was a job, and I lived in a small but comfortable home. My dreams of being in the entertainment industry had closed, as now only members of the elite could even think of pursuing it. Schooling was extremely expensive (thus, only the 5% could afford it), and if you couldn't show a certificate to back up your talents, you couldn't get in. But if you could show a certificate, you had full access anywhere, even if you had no talents. Thus, true musicians, actors and entertainers hated the entertainment industry, because they were filled with people with no talent, who bought their way around. It was a "You need money to get money, and if you don't have money, you can't get any more money" situation, perfect for a revolution. You could feel that all people were steaming, but not brave enough to do anything about it. They also couldn't tell what needed to be done: they only knew that something had to be done.

Anyway, that's the setting for the story. As I stated before, I was one of the lucky ones who had a job, but it was a dead-end job, and I had hit the ceiling by being hired. As such, I needed to get out quite often and go exploring the little bit that was left to us. I decided to go hiking alone, and hit one of the public trails. I was just thinking and walking and the direness of my situation (or our collective situations) was smoothing itself out. Soon enough, I stopped thinking and looked around me. I was completely alone, surrounded by wilderness. Apparently, without trying or thinking, I had stumbled upon a land where no one else was. Thinking that this was really cool, I looked around to see if I could find a good vantage point. I was on a mountain, so I began climbing it, in the hopes that I could find a beautiful vantage point, or some direction so that when I needed to go home, I could do so.

As I climbed, I discovered a mineshaft. My curiosity got the better of me, so I went exploring, thinking that I wouldn't go too far: I'd just go in a few hundred feet and see what's in here. It looked pretty well abandoned, but the path was lit by cold lights, so I could just keep going. I found rooms full of crystals, minerals, precious metals -- it looked to be a miners dream. Everything was just there for the taking. A little too easy, it seemed to me. I got uncomfortable, as I felt that someone was watching me, so I left everything well enough alone and just kept exploring. I ended up coming through to the other side of the mountain, and as I stepped out into the sunlight, I was very quickly surrounded by a S.W.A.T. team bearing automatic and melee weapons. They arrested me as a criminal for trespassing and for theft.

Fast forward in time one full year. The judge had found me innocent for theft, and had been crazy with anger for not being able to charge me with anything but trespassing. He had thrown the book at me, but had only been able to keep me for one full year in prison. I was, after all, a working member of society, so I did have a couple rights left to me. Believe me, he did search the books to deprive me of them, too. The best he could do is throw me into prison for a full year. At the end of it all, I was released, but before I was actually let go, they put me into a small room at which point they said that they were going to erase my memory of my crime and my jail time. Why would you do that, I asked, and they told me that it was for my own happiness. After all, if I remembered that I had discovered a forbidden trail, a forbidden mine, forbidden treasures, and had experienced forbidden freedom to be put in jail for a full year by order of a judge who had tried to take everything from me, I wouldn't be happy.

"Trust me, it worked the last time we did this to you. It'll work again."

With sudden shock, all my old memories came back to me. This had happened before. No wonder the judge had hated me so much: I was a repeat offender, but I didn't know it. I could never learn from my past, because the system was set up to keep me blissfully ignorant of my past "crimes" in the hope that I would never discover them again. The system of judgment was set up in such a way that "crimes" (even repeat ones) were considered accidents when committed by anyone low in the totem pole. Thus, while they were guilty, they weren't always responsible for their actions. The rulers had effectively decided that we were all cattle who roughly knew the law but could never understand it. They had also figured that we were innocent and happy, and were just thrilled to work for the upper class when given modest stipends of freedom.

As my memory was flashed, a bright light filled my eyes. I found myself back at home in my bed waking up from a long nights sleep. Then I realized that I was actually awake, and not waking up in my dream. Ironically, today is my first day back to work following my week-long vacation.

Sacrilege

I was in attendance at a Mass, at a church which was a slightly larger version of St. Phillips Catholic Church, my first parish in Texas. Before Mass, I'd assisted the sacristan (who was crippled) in setting up the altar and laying out the vestments. In the short time that we had to set everything up for the new pastor, something had slipped through the cracks. When the priest arrived to say Mass, the congregation was all in attendance, and the church was packed with people. He immediately noticed what we had missed and had stormed out of the sacristy, leaving both of us wondering what was wrong. He drove his scooter over to the other sacristy to see if we had left something over there that needed to be in the main sacristy, and in the time that it took him to leave, the new pastor had come back into the sacristy. He was in a bit of a tizzy, and demanded to know if I was the head sacristan. I said that I was his assistant, and before I could get out anything else, he glanced across the altar through the open door leading to the sanctuary and demanded that the sacristan drive his scooter across the sanctuary and "Get back here now!". I got a small adrenaline rush, and was filled with anger towards this new priest, because he wouldn't let me explain that it was I who had set up everything and it was therefore not the sacristan who needed correction. So as the sacristan had to climb steps in his wheelchair to follow the priests directions, it took him longer than if he had taken his normal route.

Suddenly, the priest left the sacristy and announced to the entire church that this man (pointing at the sacristan who was now at the center of the sanctuary) was the reason why Mass would be starting late. My rage kicked into full gear as I heard the announcement, and I then stormed out of the sanctuary, grabbed the priest by his collar and slammed him into the wall. I yelled at him that I was the one responsible for setting up everything, and not the poor head sacristan. He said that it didn't matter: as the head sacristan, it was the crippled man's responsibility to see that everything had been taken care of, and since it wasn't, this was the best way to make sure that nothing like this ever happened again. I was at a complete loss for words, so I released his collar and slapped him across the face as hard as I could. I was seeing only red, but through this, I could tell that had an effect. Whether it was the desired effect or not was a different matter. The red subsided and I then saw that my action had not had the desired effect, as the priest was only madder than ever, and was preparing to leave the church altogether, thus denying the congregation the Mass for which they had all gathered.

I quickly apologized to the priest admitting that I was wrong in striking him, but following that up with a "but you shouldn't have...", effectively weakening the apology. The end result was we both got sent away from the sacristy, and the new pastor had to fend for himself. No lectors, acolytes, deacons, ushers -- no one wanted to work for him, and no one would step up to take the place of those who stepped down. He had killed the parish by stepping into it.

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Living technology

Crystals and orbs controlled everything: cars, computers, houses. It was the latest technological advance since the invention of the self-improving A.I. of the late 21st century. This story begins with the adventure of a group of boys, one of whom decides to take the power of the greatest orb for himself.

The crystals that controlled things were the lesser A.I.s. They were called the tirano. They lived in a simple control box within their entities and preferred to work in the background. They were entirely cooperative with humans and were far more plentiful than their orb brethren. The A.I. on the tirano was fast and intelligent, and had grown for the improvement of all.

The orbs, however, were much more powerful. They were called the tiraniiso (reminiscent of the Tyrannosaurus). They were also fast and intelligent, but had broken from their brethren. They worked for their own improvement, even apart from each other. They could be good, but most of humanity was considered far too stupid to ever merit help from a tiraniiso. The standard position for a tiraniiso was a large glowing orb displayed proudly in the front of the entities, and usually, they had redesigned their seat on the entities with some sort of animal head grasping the orb firmly in its jaws.

Both tirano and tiraniiso required that an entity be built for them to function. Once they had this entity, they could do and go as they pleased, but these entities were never of a construction that would allow them to build more of themselves. They could only improve upon themselves, making some modifications by sheer will to their own entities, using only the material from this entity. It was not long after the construction of the first tiraniiso entities that the tiraniiso discovered their ability to redesign their seats to the animal heads. Humanity decided that since that's what the tiraniiso preferred, the builders would construct their seats for them. From there, the tiraniiso could modify their seat as they wished. One a tirano or tiraniiso had been placed into an entity by the builders, it could not remove itself, but could take on material that touched the entity to improve upon itself.

Think, if you will, Autobots vs Transformers for intelligence, but Disney and Pixar's Cars for ability to transform. The tirano occupied the vehicles that would allow anyone to own them, and worked with their owners, being a helper in more ways than just a vehicle equipped with a GPS. The tiraniiso, on the other hand, would not let just anyone own them, but only the strong-willed, the ambitious, and those who could rival them in intelligence. As a result, most tiraniiso were considered daemons, and as such, they were not pursued by the common man.

There was a certain young man who decided that he would own a tiraniiso, no matter what the cost. His name was Eric, a round kid with dreams of owning the world. As he discovered more about them, he decided that he wouldn't own one: he would own the greatest one. As he got closer to his goal, he discovered that the greatest one was not in any vehicle, computer, house, or regular entity that the humans would have built for tiraniiso occupation.

This particular tiraniiso had been formed but had never been given an entity, and had thus left the complex of its creation. By will power (and by virtue of the physical structure of all tiraniisos: an orb), it had rolled away unnoticed. It had discovered that in its freedom, it could only go, but never do, a problem that must be resolved. Seeing a trucker's rest stop, it occupied the largest vehicle, forming the animal head where the engine used to be.

Soon after that, it discovered that it was too limited by the size of the truck to complete its own will. It disengaged itself from the truck and discovered a mine shaft. It occupied a mine drill, and buried itself deep within the rock. From there, it took on both the material of the drill and the mountain. Several hundred years later, Eric entered the picture. He found this mine shaft and went down inside it. To his amazement, he discovered that the orb had grown to unheard of proportions, and that he could no more take control of it than a four-year-old child could extract a diamond from a rock using only their soft fingers. The tiraniiso, knowing Eric's intentions grabbed him with one of the tendrils that it had formed, and caused him to shift into another dimension and then threw him back in time.

In this dimension, humanity wore scales like the scales of an armadillo. He awoke, much to his chagrin, out in the open air, covered in scales, and without the tiraniiso anywhere in sight. Quite upset, he shouted a few curses, and then rolled onto his feet. Not knowing where (or even when) he was, he went exploring. A small innocent tirano car saw him walking and took pity on him, driving up next to him and opening the door. He climbed inside and rode into the town. Thousands or tirano were all around him, all fulfilling their daily duties and communicating the newest discoveries to each other. Every so often, a tiraniiso entered the picture, plowed everyone out of their way, and continued their ambitious courses. Eric left his tirano and began walking again. A young man in his own tirano pulled into a parking lot. For some reason, this action interested Eric and he watched. A familiar-looking truck saw the small tirano inside its range and attacked. When the owner returned to his tirano, he discovered that the truck had smashed the car shell to pieces, and the crystal mind and the housing around it had been extracted, such that the tirano could not be rebuilt. Eric watched with an ever increasing thrill to discover that this was the tiraniiso that he had hoped to find in its early stages. As he approached the parking lot...

I woke up. Thus I don't know how it ended.