Cheese it, it's the fuzz.

I am in a car chase, driving my Honda civic Si. Cops are chasing me and I lose them among city streets. I park at a stadium and get out and walk. I intend to cut through the stadium to the other side to get away. I am walking through a crowd in an underground or interior passageway. Two security guards call for me to stop and ask if I am Brian Thompson. The cops must have discovered my car in the lot.

Writing that gets under your skin

There is a girl sitting in a classroom. She has poetry written all the way up her leg. The tattooed letters are formed by tiny daisies.

Chase

Lane and Steve from work are driving a semi truck through a field. It is making crazy turns and circles at high speeds. I chase it on foot and jump aboard by hanging by a handle. Then I am driving the truck inside a hotel. It cruises through the lobby and fits neatly down a hall. It whips down hallways and around corners. Then Lane is driving and the hall is blocked by a train of carts like room service or the maids. She tries to make a turn and rig jackknifes. But as it tips over, it turns into several tiny trailers linked together like grocery carts in a parking lot. They fall on their side against the carpet of the hall.

I am hiking through the woods with a group of 4 people. We are our some kind of team following clues. I explore a winding trail on my own and it circles me back to the group. As I rejoin them, we see a series of orange flags hanging from branches across the woods. But the path we are on does not lead there. Someone suggests taking the trail I was just on since we know where it goes. I argue we can cut through the woods if we keep the flags in sight.

Pay your own way cowboy

I leave to get away and end up in line behind Mom and Dad going into a country bar. The cashier or bouncer asks if we are together and Dad doesn’t pay my cover.

Ninja training

I’m at the building site of a house. The wood frame has recently been walled by plywood. I walk up and start to talk to a small group of boys sitting up on a beam of wood. They sit almost level to my chest as I stand there. And they have been playing with triangles of scrap wood about the size of saucers. There game consists of throwing them against the wall behind me like throwing stars. Their scraps of wood fly into the plywood and dig in like a knife. There are even splinters of wood from the wall projecting around them. One of boys tries to run off as I talk but I sit him back down and borrow his triangle of wood. I throw it at the wall and it bounces harmlessly off.

Get up

Don, my old Creative Director, is giving me a pep talk for a job interview. He is upbeat and positive, but I feel indifferent.

I walk into a bathroom in an amusement park. There are no stalls, just doors set in the walls. One wall is a large mirror, but it is a two-way mirror with a view of the woman’s restroom next door. Two nuns are at the sink. The young one says I can hear men passing water and flushing.” A slutty hot chick in a low cut top walks in. I stare at her cleavage. Then she and the other girl (the cute nun, now in normal clothes) are in the men’s room with me. One of the girl’s is now the actress that plays Joey on Dawson’s Creek. She is telling a story very earnestly. Before she finishes, we all leave. The park is being cleared by security. One of the girls thinks she may have forgotten her purse, but we cannot go back.

I am on some kind of dock or loading area. Big equipment is stacked in an evenly spaced row down the entire length. I am sitting next to a giant gun with a barrel that is shaped like a cement mixer. Two government, military looking guys come up and ask me questions about it. The gun is capped for display, but could be made useable. Then two guys in tan, short sleeve buttoned shirts order us to move over next to a piece of construction equipment. They drill us on our id and ask questions from a clipboard. One of them grabs a weird cat and asks if it is ours. As he holds it, I see that it’s eyes are big and unnaturally bright blue. It seems the guy is willing to torture the cat to get information out of us.

Dave and I are in a backyard; we are trying to help a girl leave the house. But she drives a garbage truck that is blocked by junk. We move pieces of debris, trying to clear the truck. A semi-truck pulls out around it and hits it. A guy that looks or acts like a pothead comes up to us and is babbling about holes. But I see no holes in the yard. Dave tries to warn him away and seems ready to use violence to drive him away from us to protect the girl. As Dave leads the guy away, I slide between them and try talking to the guy. He takes us into the house next door, where he wife and kids are watching a Disney-type cartoon. We watch for a moment and suddenly the cartoon switches to some kind of educational documentary with bad production values. I realize and explain that some Christian group has edited out material they deem offensive and have done a poor job of editing in new content. The guy must have been talking about holes in the movie.

Kids playing outside. A big bouncy ball they play with rolls down a hill and into a creek. I go to get it, but a little boy jumps in the creek. His brother is there and I tell him to grab his little brother. The kid ignores me, is he slow? There are other balls floating further down in the creek. I grab the kid by the waist and tell him to jump up on 3. I count 1,2,3, bouncing him up higher on each number trying to lift him. Stacy grabs him from the bank of shore above and pulls him up.

Like the tide

I am playing volleyball with Tim Funke and a bunch of other guys. Go into to a bathroom and try to find a urinal. See someone I know, they are living on a beach.

The Assassination Game

Several people are trying to shoot me with dart guns as I run through a school. I have been targeted as the man to beat in another game of TAG. A distant dart hits me as I turn a corner. Then I am talking to the principal. He is letting me off the hook for whatever trouble I am in because he wants something from me. He needs my help to find a stolen school sign or scoreboard. He doesn’t know I’m the one that took it.

Then I am trying to get away from everyone chasing me and run to me car in a grassy parking area. Pick-ups are parked close on either side, so that I can’t open my doors. Mom and Dad’s balloon is on a trailer behind one. And one of the trucks hit a van next to it and is parked resting against the dent it made. I pick up the front of the truck and move it away from the dent.

Lost

I am driving an old VW bug convertible. I have sold my new Civic and spent $8000 on an old car, but now I won’t have to make car payments. The VW is parked in a lot. Instead of backing out of the spot, I pull forward over grass and through the dead branches of a low hanging tree. I feel stupid for abusing my new car.

I have to meet someone to leave for a trip but I don’t know where. We talk on the phone about meeting at a street intersection but I don’t know how I will get there.

I am walking through a strange subdivision. The houses are all big and expensive. Several have their garage doors open and the garages are finished like real rooms. One with huge shelves of toys, another with nice furniture. I walk into one house, surprised to find the front door unlocked. The house feels familiar but isn’t. I walk through rooms and out another door.

At least the interview went well

I’m on a job interview at a New York agency. Someone leads me to a couch in the middle of the creative department. There are offices and people working all around. I sit and wait, but no one comes to talk to me. Eventually, I walk back out to the lobby. I can’t find anyone to help me, so I get ready to leave. As I walk through the lobby, the creative director walks through. He recognizes me and I automatically know who he is. We start talking and I walk with him out of the building as he leaves for the day. We continue talking as we walk down the street towards his car. We approach a corner to cross the street and there is a huge, long snake crawling through a bush and onto the grass on the corner. I am startled and a bit scared watching this giant snake slither on the grass, its head rising towards us. The creative director says something like, “Don’t worry, he’s harmless, he talks to me all the time.” Then he pets the snake on its outstretched head. We walk on and cross through a park.
In the park, I leave the creative director and go up to two young kids, a boy and a girl. They are black and barely older than toddlers. They climb into an SUV to go on a tour. A woman is there, I talk to her and assume she is their chaperon. I see the driver slumped backwards in the driver seat. He lurches forward to grab the steering wheel as if he suddenly awoke. I realize that he is extremely intoxicated. I say, “You’re not driving these kids anywhere and reach in to take the keys from the ignition. As I do so, he drives off. I try to push him into the passenger seat and struggle to take the wheel. He floors the gas and I am bent under the dash pulling on his leg, trying to get his foot off the pedal. I am yelling at him. The car speeds down streets and up a hill. Finally, I have control of the car, but the brakes don’t work or I am unable to press them. I look out the windshield and see that we are approaching a busy intersection. I steer the car towards the island that divides a turn lane of the street on the right from the lanes that go straight through the intersection. The car coasts onto the island, but then rolls off the other side and comes to a stop. I get out and the driver gets out after me. As I support him to stand, a cop car pulls up and an officer jumps out screaming. He asks who was driving, he thinks that we are both drunk. I explain what happens, but am nervous since the officer has his gun drawn. It turns out that the cops had roadblocks set up and snipers shot out the tires of the vehicle in an effort to stop it. That is why I couldn’t control the car and why the cops thought I was driving intoxicated.