I'm part of some superhero team. It feels neither real nor completely fake. It's not scripted, as far as I can tell. We're supposed to fight The Avengers, whose costumes are not very expensive or complicated. Iceman, for instance, looks like a puffy cornflower blue Ben Grimm costume made out of thin material that puffs out like a Party City Pikachu costume. I'm happy to learn that my power is teleportation but I'm a little unclear as to how it's supposed to work. Somebody tells me I probably just have to say "Bamf" or "Kackus". I say both, trying to visualize the world going all blurry and swishy around me, like when Elijah Wood puts on the One Ring, but it seems I'm not doing it right. The Avengers drop off the side of a chain-store box building like Target or something, and come running towards my team. I duck behind a car wishing I could figure out how to teleport behind them. Later on, I'm a girl and a guy is trying to strangle me. I have a medium-handled scythe, though, which I am pushing cross-ways against his stomach. It turns out I have four arms, as well, because I'm pulling his hands off my throat simultaneously, and even though we're struggling, I'm pretty sure I could slice him open if that's really what I want to do.

A big house with a spacious finished basement. I'm supposed to work a shift at Golden West tonight and I'm worried I overslept. I go into the basement and there's a whole bunch of people sitting on one side of a very long, very low table, the kind where you have to sit cross-legged on a pillow to sit at it. To my surprise, everybody is watching a live performance of The Cure on some kind of monitor. I'm not sure where the actual band is but it seems to be nearby. I am also surprised to see that the poet Lindsay Raspi is playing drums for them. She seems out of breath but she's not messing up or anything. Everyone at the table is engrossed in the show and pays me no heed; I watch along with them. In the middle of the next song, the poet bails on the drums and somebody else takes over, and it's unclear to me whether this is a big deal or not. I don't see them but it feels safe to assume that the person taking over is somebody associated with Lake Trout. I ask somebody about the time-- it turns out that I am off by 12 hours, and there's plenty of time for me to get to the shift at the restaurant. I realize for the first time, though, that it probably starts much earlier than 10pm, the time I start my shifts at The Club, and I start to feel stressed again and wonder why the hell I'm going to do shifts at Golden West again.