I'm supposed to play two shows in a row in this shitty dive bar. The ceiling is really low. I'm first of three, opening for some band that I really admire. A lot. And that I'm kind of friends with (it's not anybody I've actually toured with before, though, I don't think.) The first night, for some reason, I start abusing the crowd, calling them names and making fun of them, and after three songs I'm taken off the stage by the guy who runs the club and told I can't play there the next night. Some other stuff happens, I guess, then the next night I come back and my friend Height has been tapped to replace me. I feel kind of bummed that he didn't tell me that they asked him to replace me, then when I watch his set he starts totally ripping into me, on the mic, during the songs, pointing at me and totally dissing the shit out of me. After like 3 instances of this, I walk out, while he continues to berate me.
The club is next to a lot of abandoned cars, refrigerators, rusty construction equipment, and a small crashed plane. I walk across this gravel lot and go into the woods. Back deep in the woods I become a part of this group of kids that is in possession of a totally bloody, ripped up rabbit. It belongs to some little girl whose house we are next to. We have to get into the house to steal something, but if anybody sees us we will be killed. It's just this nice, suburban-family house in the woods, but apparently there are multiple dudes on watch for us. Luckily, we have this trick that we can do (there are maybe 8 of us, and we're all pretty young)--- we can fold ourselves up into our hair. Like, my whole body fits underneath of my hair, and then my hair gets greyer and thicker, and looks like some kind of head-less vague animal quivering on the dead-leafs-and-sticks-ridden ground. We have to hum while we do it, though, because apparently this makes us seem more like furry animals and less suspicious. We do it once when we see some dudes, then I pop up and go into the house. It's just a regular, suburban-family house with nice mahogany tables with knick-knacks on them, but it scares me. I know that somewhere in the house is the little girl whose destroyed rabbit we have (real rabbit, like a pet, not a toy) and if she sees me I am very afraid of what she might do.