So last night I couldn’t sleep, so Without missing a beat. I decided to KEEP ON PARTYING. I danced, I sang and chatted up tons of foo’s. But I end up in this bar I’ve never seen before and for whatever reason, it’s a friendly place (they all work together, so they commiserate at the bar) so I sit myself down and eye the vodkas. Bartender gives me a shot on the house as I looked a bit worn and I listen to their story as I settle in for more drinks. They were all (excluding the bartender) paying the penalty for various crimes from drug infractions to minor theft. They talk of a factory in town where they work off their crimes. How they toil all day to meet their production quotas and a little extra for food and the a few beers.
The next day, while wandering to the next party on the street, I was accosted by Jonnie Law. My only crime was that I partied too much. So they put me to work in the warehouse. Sure enough, I met the manager of the facility who set me straight to work assembling mannequin parts.
I don’t meet quota at the end of the day and, being the expert partier, I use my super power of staying up without missing a beat, I decide to keep working. I work through the night and when the shift begins the next day, management informs me my actions warrants a penalty to be paid out in more time owed to the factory.
Finding this to be as corrupt as hell, I stew until I suffer no longer. My bar friends and I rise up (no more than 6 of up in total) and use our job skills to kung-fu this white collar dictator death. After a long a gruesome battle, where we failed at first to cause any significant damage and were beaten back one at a time like an old kung-fu movie’s battle royale. We sustained heavy damage until we learned just in time to beat on him relentlessly with better timing and a free flow of attacks. There he lay in a heap. We knew he was done, so we begin shuffling back to the bar. No more than 5 steps were taken before we turned around and saw him stagger aimlessly away from us, pivot uncertainly and head back towards us. Clearly, we had damaged him more than any normal fight. Then, just as he began to veer to the right, the left side of his torso separated from his spine and ribcage like meet from the bone when broiled. His muscle fell to the left, leaving the clean bones and the right arm intact to stumble half a step foreword to collapse to the right.
Damn. That’s fucking nuts.
Anyways, that was all in a dream I had a few nights ago.
