The Natatorium

An emporium of oddities from around the world, complete with somewhat informative plaques that almost never match the item they are meant to be describing.

Saturday, February 12, 2005

A Little Help Here??!!?

Two nights ago I had a zombie dream. It was very Shaun of the Dead, only it wasn't funny. At all. Rather, it was scary and grotesque. In the first part of the dream, I was at a funeral (some middle-aged man I didn't know) and some really disgusting and disturbing things were happening that I don't think I need to go into here. Then, suddenly I was at my house, and there were a bunch of zombies in the dining room. My mom was there too, and I ran into the kitchen and started grabbing things to use as weapons. I told my mom, "Something heavy, sharp, or both," and ran to attack the zombies before they attacked us. I hit one of them over the head several times with a heavy pot, but when it's skull finally cracked I wasn't satisfied that it was actually dead, so I had to scoop out it's brains with a wooden spoon; oddly enough, the brains looked like raw hamburger meat that I'm used to cooking with that same wooden spoon...

The next zombie wasn't so easy. I had her straddled, face down, in the hallway and I was beating her head against the floor where it met the baseboard, over and over again as hard as I could, but it just wouldn't crack. Finally, in a strange burst of super-strength, I hoisted her over my head and threw her on top of another zombie. I turned and yelled at my mom to help me, but she was just sort of standing around, and all she had in her hand was a wire whisk. "Mom!" I screamed, "I said something sharp or heavy!" She just stood there, waving her whisk around ineffectually in the air.

Then I saw this guy. Late twenties, tall, rather attractive, little stubble of a beard. He wasn't acting like a zombie, but I just *knew* he wasn't human; I could tell he was evil on the inside. Then it dawned on me. "Hey!" I said, "You're the zombie king!" Unruffled, he gave me a weird look and said, "No, I'm not." "Yes you are!" I yelled at him. "No, I'm not," he said again. "*Yes* *You* *ARE*!" I yelled again. He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Alright, fine, I'm the zombie king." Then he leaned in close to me like he was going to hug me, or whisper a secret, and I got this flash of how he was turning people into zombies. My hand snapped up to my ear and pinched. I caught the tail of a wormy-leechy thing as it tried to slither into my brain. They were parasites, just like yeerks in Animorphs or the aliens in The Faculty. I pulled it out and threw it to the ground. I think I tried to fight the zombie king, but the worm things were everywhere, and you couldn't feel them while they were crawling on you, so there was no warning, no way to tell if they were about to crawl into your brain. I think one finally made it in just as I woke up.

My first thought when I woke up was, Why weren't Feral and Chuck there? I was actually really pissed off at the both of them for not being there to help me. I had this mental image of Feral with a shotgun laying the zombies to waste, and Chuck helping me and my mom beat them to death. It took a while for me to get un-mad at them, even though it wasn't their fault that they weren't in my dream.

In last night's dream, I was starting to get a little lucid, and I managed to make myself able to fly. There was a really huge apartment with four or five levels and huge rooms with sets of four to eight stairs separating areas of the rooms; it was decorated very modernly. Anyway, the point is, it was a *LOT* of fun to play tag in. Everything curved around so you could head people off, but you got the edge if you skipped over all the stairs with big jumps. Wheee.


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