Wednesday, August 8, 2007

Dream Review #1 - ATTACK!

Most of my dreams are usually pretty stupid. Myself falling, running from something, sitting down for a test and realizing I haven't studied or even going online to see that my checking account is overdrawn (Wait. That's not a dream!)

In any event, I also have some very, very strange dreams. That's when I thought it would be fun to share some of my rather 'cool' dreams with the viewing public. NOTE: If your eyes are already glazing over, I completely understand. But, trust me, I won't bore you with the stupid dreams. I'll bore you with the interesting ones instead. So, here's my first online dream review titled: ATTACK! I had it last night.

So there I was standing in line at the Army Reserves with my good friend Tom. We were the same age we are right now - thirtysomething- and for the life of me I can't remember why we decided to sign up.

We filled out the required paperwork, put on our issued fatigues and walked through this green, steel door. The room was empty with the exception of a rather impatient Gunny Staff Sgt. Hartman from Full Metal Jacket standing in the middle of the room with his arms behind his back.

"Oh shit," I whispered to Tom. "We're in for it."

"GET YER ASS OVER HERE," he yelled at us. "It's time for basic training."

We ran over and stood side-by-side. I was expecting a tirade and getting a big hock of spit in my face. But, he simply put his arms on his hips and said, "NOW DON'T JUST STAND THERE! GIMME 20."

We both immediately hit the ground and pumped out 20 push-ups. We stood up and Sgt. Hartman had two machine guns in his hands. "Congratulations," he said. "You passed."

Sweet.

We all hopped in a jeep and drove off the army base. The land around me started to look vaguely familiar. We were in the country passing various farm houses. We also passed an IGA, a couple of exploded gas stations and a farmer's market where farmers were selling these really, really big pieces of corn. The sky was an eerie reddish-purple and, in the distance, I noticed explosions blasting away in the woods.

Then we passed an ice-cream shop and an old-time video store that I used to visit when I was young. That's when I realized we were in the Ohio Valley. The jeep took a couple hard turns. As I passed my old grade school, the jeep careened up a hill and we pulled into my parent's driveway. Bombs were exploding at the top of the hills. Schrapnel was raining from the sky. The Sgt turned around in his seat to face us. "You've got orders to defend this station."

We got out and the sarge tossed us a bag of bullets, some grenades, a couple jugs of water, a six-pack of banana-strawberry yogurt (huh?) and a couple hiking backpacks filled to the brim with supplies and food. As he started up the jeep, an explosion rocked my backyard, I noticed a bunch of basketballs, kickballs and baseballs get thrown into the air and a couple trees cracked and fell on top of the house.

"God be with you," he yelled as he peeled out of the driveway. "They're attacking at night!"

"Who's attacking at night?" I yelled. I looked over to Tom who shrugged and started firing his gun at the hills. I followed his lead. Mortar blasts landed all around our house. It was getting pretty heavy so we ducked under my Dad's green Hyundai for protection.

"Man down" Tom yelled. "I've been hit."

He opened up his shirt and there was a grenade sticking out of his stomach. My first instinct was to run. But I noticed that the pin wasn't pulled yet. So I hung around to help him out. Then, I felt something slam into my body. I lifted my jacket and found a similar grenade sticking out of my stomach. "Fuck," I yelled. "YOU BASTARDS." I started to fire my machine gun into the woods. I even tossed a couple hand grenades for good measure.

Then we heard a strange rumble of footsteps. It was coming from the top of the mountain across the road and was headed our way.

Tom and I looked at each other. I tossed him some bullets from the bag and we reloaded. The rumble grew louder and I could see faint puffs of dust coming through the trees as whatever it was making its way down the hill.
I shuffled around in my pack and found a bottle of whiskey. We both took gulps and prepared for battle.

Suddenly, over the top of the guardrail leapt these human-size RAT CREATURES dressed in full-military fatigue. They looked like the evil rats from the movie The Secret of Nimh. Hundreds if not thousands of them were skittering toward us like angry cockroaches.
The creatures noticed us and halted. Howls and hisses came from the angry mob.

One of the bigger rats who had a bevy of medals pinned to his jacket (perhaps the General Rat?) pulled himself high above the rest of the army and held up a paw. He spoke some rat gibberish and the rat army cheered. Then, he turned toward us and hissed. His army started to charge and rounds of ammo shot out of their M-16s pinging my Dad's rusted car.

We unloaded our guns toward the creatures. Many of them fell dead at our feet. I could feel the warm blood on my face as I shot off my last round and blew off a rat's head. Then, a realization came to me. We were going to die.

I didn't want to get gnawed to death by a bunch of ARMY RAT CREATURES so I pulled up my shirt and yanked the pin from the grenade in my stomach. Tom followed my lead and did the same.

The rat creatures were closing in. The General Rat leapt in the air (a la' Watership Down) with his fangs and claws outstretched ready to attack. Blood was pouring from its mouth....

I woke up.

4 comments:

cbrown said...

"It's time for basic training!" -- made me laugh, like it's "time for college!".

That took me back to my days at old Ft. Leonard Wood, MO -- except for the part about the rats eating yogurt.

Eric Wiley said...

Good dream. do you think you've gotten better at remembering them since you started writing them down?

Your Finest Eimer said...

#Eric

In 1995, I wrote all of my dreams down, printed them out, dated them and kept them in this spiral binder. Almost, I have a dream for every day. Towards the end of the year-long experiment, I found that is was easier to remember details about a specific dream than at the beginning. Since then, I've faded in and out of remembering. I think it's a cognitive thing, whatever that means. Glad you like it. Hopefully I'll dream up some more crazy ones.

Heyitskent! said...

I had a dream I had an awesome dream
People in the park playing games in the dark
And what they played was a masquerade
And from behind of walls of doubt a voice was crying out

Say you, say me... (chorus)


(All my dreams lately tend to revolve around Lionel Richie)