Random stuff from my dreams this morning. My artist friends had been complaining about this supervillain guy stealing their stuff and corrupting their files. I think he was called The Spoiler or The Leech (yes I know there are comic book characters with those names) and he was a fit but smallish guy in a yellow outfit. I had an art job to do for my brother and his wife who had a Japanese / Polynesian -themed webcomic (not real). The Spoiler messed up my files and we got in a fight.
He was very wimpy. I beat him extremely badly. In my mind I was trying to teach him a lesson with pain, not necessarily cripple him for life. I left him on the landing of stairs outside my apartment. Later I overheard some neighbor ladies talking shit about him and one randomly mentioned he’s only eight years old. Yes, he has the body of an adult, but is actually a child. I’m like WTF I wouldn’t have done that if I’d known.
I go to check on him. Somebody had dragged him down the stairs and left him by the bushes like garbage they wanted out of their way but wasn’t their responsibility. He was paralyzed in a position like imitating a dead cockroach, green foam around his mouth, but his eyes worked and he looked at me as I approached. I said I’d go call an ambulance.
Back in my apartment the dream suddenly became hyper-detailed and realistic as if I was awake. Two young ladies (blonde, one with short hair, not too glamorous) were there talking about their D&D game and how they were waiting for the DM to get back. I was like, BS, this is a dream, I’m not your Dungeon Master. There were cupcakes on the table and I tried one, to test the dream. Tasted a bit bland but like a fairly convincing coffee buttercream.
I had to go back outside and there was a handsome nine foot tall black guy with a twelve foot long samurai sword. He was unnaturally tall but realistically proportioned, wrapped up in voluminous blue robes like Marvel’s “Cloak” or a mysterious Mœbius comic character. I knew he was there to chop off my head.
He went to do it but I interrupted him like, no man, don’t. This is a dream and I know that, but it’s all realistic and I don’t want to experience what it’s like to be decapitated. He was disappointed and tried to convince me to accept my fate. I ran up onto the apartment stairwell. He was like, “Where are you going?,” and I was like, “In here were you can’t swing that big sword.”
To prove a point he went past me into the stairwell (I backed down into the parking lot) and started rushing up and down the stairs unnaturally fast, waving the sword. The stairwell began to slide endlessly down in place, an infinite supply of stairwell replacing it so he never ran out of stairs to use for his display. I took the opportunity to force myself to wake up. Wasn’t very easy, wasn’t terribly hard.
Sometimes when I first wake up I feel so comfortable and free from pain that it’s tempting to lay in bed forever. This was one of those mornings, which makes me wonder if that painlessness is tied to some specific stage of sleep being interrupted. Also at some point in the dream DL Hughley was being very upset that these guys filming a college commercial thought he should go back to school to learn how to polish his podcast.