Night of Friday, 06/06/2014
This one is a bit patchy, but I remember getting my hands on some kind of strange weapon. It was kind of like a scythe, but with a longer staff and much shorter, more hooked blade. I'm in a large stone hall with pillars supporting the roof, and there are loads of people trying to attack me. So I'm chopping them all up in the face with this scythe thing - and slashing at the pillars too, breaking them down so sections of the roof begin to fall. At some point, I realise that some of the people I'm slashing are civilians, not the guys trying to get me. Furthermore, it turns out that I can control anyone I hit with the scythe.
In the ensuing chaos, the thing snaps in two; making it more sickle I guess. And then it breaks a second time and I'm left with a small piece of the blade attached to a lump of wood that fits neatly in my hand. I exit the hall as it begins to cave in on its self and end up outside Woolworth's on Worksop's high street. I pull my hood up over my head to conceal my identity and shuffle up Bridge Street in the rain, magic gardening tool of mass destruction concealed in my pocket.
Worried I'll eventually be followed by the generic bad guys, I see some of the younger MOB kids and use the blade to recruit them into my resistance. At this point, I don't need to actually use the blade, I just have to show them it in order to erase their will power. They take me to an old shop that seems really familiar - I might have come here as a very young child, or perhaps visited it in another dream? In the back room of the shop there's four people lounging around of sofas, three of which are the same girl from my year at Portland, whose name escapes me.
And them I'm in Nonna's living room, which has been repurposed as a mad scientist's lair. There's a Frankenstein type monster lying on a table that's part of a machine that I can only describe as a large CT scanner, with a particularly wide bore, made of dark stone. Wires and dark grey metal everywhere. I try to wake the monster up without letting its creator see me, but when I do, it goes mental and attacks me. The monster's creator seems pissed off too. At some point, the scene reverts back to the start and I'm stealthily trying to turn the machine on to wake it up, but again when I do I just end up getting berated and attacked. On the third reset, I try using the computer in the corner to turn the machine on; all the time, slowly moving around the room and hiding from the scientist. I load up six or seven aspects of the patchwork brute's programing (for lack of a better word) - the name of each on spells out an acronym which I've forgotten, but have an inkling might have been D.E.N.N.I.S. This successfully wakes the monster up. One of the radiography students that was in the year above me walks past the door to the utility room.
And then I woke up.
Pandora: Spectral Jelly-fish & A Trip to the Theatre
Night of Tuesday, 27.05.2014
Chapter One
I've moved into a new flat. It's kind of a mixture between my current place and Charlotte Court, but more than anything, it is grey. I'm expecting a package, and I'm told one of my new neighbours has a fondness for recycling and often picks up other people's mail by mistake, so I head round to hers. It turns out that a) I live next to award winning artist Fiona Staples, and b) Fiona really needs to tidy her flat up. There's papers and parcels and canvasses and cardboard covering the floor and several desks; a 70s style gas heater pokes out from the far room. Fiona does indeed have my post and hands me a long poster tube. I keep to myself that its housing one of her Saga prints, but introduce myself and mention I've ordered the HC, which surprises her as she didn't know it was being published.
As well as Staples, I make become friends with another flat owner in the complex, though I don't really remember much about him after waking up. The three of us hang out every now and then, but there's a growing sense of dread amongst us and the other occupants of the building over the next few weeks. It turns out that the building is haunted. The other occupants are all living in fear of an invisible ghost named Pandora that haunts the building, attacking people every now and then. One time, in my bathroom, I managed to catch a glimpse of her in the reflection of my bathroom mirror; a giant, almost completely transparent jelly-fish, its wraith tendrils gently floating around its body as if under water. Thankfully, she doesn't seem interested in me (not that I can judge a jelly-fish's mood by looking at it, but I took the fact that I was still breathing to be a good sign), however she's directly between myself and the door. I could try and make a break for the exit, but doing so would mean turning from the mirror and thus losing track of her position in the room. I figure that the ghost-jelly-fish probably has shoes on - despite having just seen the thing and knowing it doesn't have feet, let alone shoes - so I sprinkle water all over the floor in front of me. Surely enough, large boot-prints start appearing in the droplets and I'm able to get past without pissing it off.
Fiona, That One Other Guy and I all decide to do something about the ghost as word arrives that it has killed someone else. I guess that there's going to be one of those its-more-scared-of-us-than-we-are-of-it third act twists coming up soon, and figure that she's probably just angry at being trapped in this set of flats for an afterlife. I reason that if she is trapped, I'll open a window to let her out and in order to prove I'm not a threat and don't want to hurt her, jump off a ledge into a garden (which is somehow on the roof).
For whatever reason, Pandora seems to appreciate my improvised exorcism and turns from invisible jelly-fish phantasm into old-timey woman in a raggedy ball gown and Doc Martins. She looks back at us with a deadpan expression on her pale face and walks off into the depths of the roof-garden. With Captain America.
A week later, our ethereal experience is being broadcast on TV. Fiona has since moved out, so I ring her up to let her know, our story was televised. I feel exhausted as I realise that this means the building will fall under super-natural turmoil every week for the entertainment of the viewers at home.
Chapter Two
Some time later, I'm visiting the Royal Albert Hall with my family. On the inside of the building, it actually looks more like The Majestic Theatre, though slightly bigger. We've arrived for the production early: there are only a few people already seated - including the O'Learys - and we approach the usher's desk, which is placed in the middle of the stalls. We purposely turned up without any tickets as we knew that they'd be much cheaper on the day. We buy four tickets from the old man, who explains we can sit anywhere as long as we're 9 meters away from the stage, and head down to the third row seats.
We approach our chairs when a member of the audience's phone starts ringing. It is a jaunty, monophonic tone and it is LOUD. For whatever reason, everyone in the theatre finds this hilarious. Soon after, someone else's phone starts ringing. And another, and another, until everyone's mobiles are chirping out that same ring tone. And it is HILARIOUS. Distracted, Mum knocks a deck of cards from a table onto the floor with her elbow. I go to pick them up for her, but I look down to see hundreds of cards scattered over the red carpet. Annoyingly, I'm going to have to un-shuffle them into six separate decks again.
At this point, Alex comes running in with news. "TOM VOICE IS UPSTAIRS AND TOM IS DOWNSTAIRS". I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to make of this information, but a few more people are filtering into the auditorium now, so I gather all the cards, worried someone will take our seats. My parents join us but Mum doesn't look happy with me "What's the matter with you?" she asks; to which Alex and I naturally respond "Hey! Ya got-a no respect". Again, small audience breaks into hysterics. The old man at the usher's table begins playing the stupid song on the organ.
And then I woke up.
Chapter One
I've moved into a new flat. It's kind of a mixture between my current place and Charlotte Court, but more than anything, it is grey. I'm expecting a package, and I'm told one of my new neighbours has a fondness for recycling and often picks up other people's mail by mistake, so I head round to hers. It turns out that a) I live next to award winning artist Fiona Staples, and b) Fiona really needs to tidy her flat up. There's papers and parcels and canvasses and cardboard covering the floor and several desks; a 70s style gas heater pokes out from the far room. Fiona does indeed have my post and hands me a long poster tube. I keep to myself that its housing one of her Saga prints, but introduce myself and mention I've ordered the HC, which surprises her as she didn't know it was being published.
As well as Staples, I make become friends with another flat owner in the complex, though I don't really remember much about him after waking up. The three of us hang out every now and then, but there's a growing sense of dread amongst us and the other occupants of the building over the next few weeks. It turns out that the building is haunted. The other occupants are all living in fear of an invisible ghost named Pandora that haunts the building, attacking people every now and then. One time, in my bathroom, I managed to catch a glimpse of her in the reflection of my bathroom mirror; a giant, almost completely transparent jelly-fish, its wraith tendrils gently floating around its body as if under water. Thankfully, she doesn't seem interested in me (not that I can judge a jelly-fish's mood by looking at it, but I took the fact that I was still breathing to be a good sign), however she's directly between myself and the door. I could try and make a break for the exit, but doing so would mean turning from the mirror and thus losing track of her position in the room. I figure that the ghost-jelly-fish probably has shoes on - despite having just seen the thing and knowing it doesn't have feet, let alone shoes - so I sprinkle water all over the floor in front of me. Surely enough, large boot-prints start appearing in the droplets and I'm able to get past without pissing it off.
Fiona, That One Other Guy and I all decide to do something about the ghost as word arrives that it has killed someone else. I guess that there's going to be one of those its-more-scared-of-us-than-we-are-of-it third act twists coming up soon, and figure that she's probably just angry at being trapped in this set of flats for an afterlife. I reason that if she is trapped, I'll open a window to let her out and in order to prove I'm not a threat and don't want to hurt her, jump off a ledge into a garden (which is somehow on the roof).
For whatever reason, Pandora seems to appreciate my improvised exorcism and turns from invisible jelly-fish phantasm into old-timey woman in a raggedy ball gown and Doc Martins. She looks back at us with a deadpan expression on her pale face and walks off into the depths of the roof-garden. With Captain America.
A week later, our ethereal experience is being broadcast on TV. Fiona has since moved out, so I ring her up to let her know, our story was televised. I feel exhausted as I realise that this means the building will fall under super-natural turmoil every week for the entertainment of the viewers at home.
Chapter Two
Some time later, I'm visiting the Royal Albert Hall with my family. On the inside of the building, it actually looks more like The Majestic Theatre, though slightly bigger. We've arrived for the production early: there are only a few people already seated - including the O'Learys - and we approach the usher's desk, which is placed in the middle of the stalls. We purposely turned up without any tickets as we knew that they'd be much cheaper on the day. We buy four tickets from the old man, who explains we can sit anywhere as long as we're 9 meters away from the stage, and head down to the third row seats.
We approach our chairs when a member of the audience's phone starts ringing. It is a jaunty, monophonic tone and it is LOUD. For whatever reason, everyone in the theatre finds this hilarious. Soon after, someone else's phone starts ringing. And another, and another, until everyone's mobiles are chirping out that same ring tone. And it is HILARIOUS. Distracted, Mum knocks a deck of cards from a table onto the floor with her elbow. I go to pick them up for her, but I look down to see hundreds of cards scattered over the red carpet. Annoyingly, I'm going to have to un-shuffle them into six separate decks again.
At this point, Alex comes running in with news. "TOM VOICE IS UPSTAIRS AND TOM IS DOWNSTAIRS". I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to make of this information, but a few more people are filtering into the auditorium now, so I gather all the cards, worried someone will take our seats. My parents join us but Mum doesn't look happy with me "What's the matter with you?" she asks; to which Alex and I naturally respond "Hey! Ya got-a no respect". Again, small audience breaks into hysterics. The old man at the usher's table begins playing the stupid song on the organ.
And then I woke up.
 |
| Staples' self portrait, with Saga writer BKV |
 |
Poltergeist v Forearms
Night of Tuesday, 15.05.2014
I don't quite remember much about this one. I do remember that it's winter time. Christmas, in fact; all the walls are green and red. I remember that there's something going on in this room... some kind of supernatural commotion regarding mum and a Christmas tree? I think I tried to explain that the poltergeist would leave us alone if we were nice to it.
Then all the lights go out, everything goes a deep dark grey and pale blue; static-y too, like I'm watching through an old telly. The ghost (invisible) has grabbed a hold of me and is slowly lifting me up off the floor by my forearms. The bones in my forearm and elbow joint shine through my soft tissue a brilliant and extremely pale blue colour. In contrast, everything else seems to be getting darker and more distorted. This really hurts, not just the ghost clutching my bones, but the strain on my elbows which are frozen in place, flexed upwards at right angles, and struggling to hold me - the longer the ghost has me hoisted, the heaver my body becomes, the more pain I'm in. Eventually, my radius and ulna buckle and dislocate.
And then I woke up.
I don't quite remember much about this one. I do remember that it's winter time. Christmas, in fact; all the walls are green and red. I remember that there's something going on in this room... some kind of supernatural commotion regarding mum and a Christmas tree? I think I tried to explain that the poltergeist would leave us alone if we were nice to it.
Then all the lights go out, everything goes a deep dark grey and pale blue; static-y too, like I'm watching through an old telly. The ghost (invisible) has grabbed a hold of me and is slowly lifting me up off the floor by my forearms. The bones in my forearm and elbow joint shine through my soft tissue a brilliant and extremely pale blue colour. In contrast, everything else seems to be getting darker and more distorted. This really hurts, not just the ghost clutching my bones, but the strain on my elbows which are frozen in place, flexed upwards at right angles, and struggling to hold me - the longer the ghost has me hoisted, the heaver my body becomes, the more pain I'm in. Eventually, my radius and ulna buckle and dislocate.
And then I woke up.
 |
| Reminded me of this, but blue. And anatomically correct (the radius & ulna wouldn't cross in this pose) |
Dick Winters & I Escape Nazi Occupation
Night of Thursday, 15.05.2014
Its a warm night. I'm walking alone down a main road and pass a strange building on my right hand side. It almost seems like a renovated fire station or something - large openings along its broad side, separated by thick, sturdy pillars. Looking in from the street into the one long room behind the wall, I spot a mobile x-ray machine (one of GE's AMX models) in a far corner. I let myself in to have a look around; the room is very long, but not very wide, with a row of simple iron bed frames along both lengths of wall. It is a very old-fashioned hospital ward.
Around half of the beds are occupied by patients, though they don't pay me much attention. I walk over to the mobile and start pushing it through the middle of the room when a man appears in front of me. He is tall, old, balding, and looks slightly like John Cleese - which is fitting, because the guy's irate. He gives me a bollocking for breaking into this place and committing grand theft AMX. I explain that I'm the radiographer, but that just gets him angrier at me for not using the main entrance or introducing myself to him first. I turn round to put the machine back, but slip on the floor and hit my head on the side of one of the beds, injuring my neck pretty badly.
As I'm laid on the floor with my head resting on the side of the bed and unable to move, I look around the room at the other patients. Señor Chang from Community is on the bed across from me, he's being vaguely annoying in his typical Chang way. Further down the room, I can see maybe ten other patients, one of whom is also on the floor, with their head just above the bed like me. The beds all begin to rattle as an earthquake shakes the room. One of the patients from the other end of the wards shouts 'flash', I automatically reply 'thunder', the WWII challenge and response used by the allies in Europe to distinguish friend from foe in the dark.
From here, the other patients, minus Chang, and I start discussing our love of Band of Brothers, when a second earthquake hits much more violently. Bricks from the wall above us start falling down, and I manage to drag myself under the bed for protection as we realise that it's no earthquake - we're under artillery fire. Forgetting that I'm paralysed, I manage to escape from the hospital through a newly-blown hole in the wall with one other patient: Major Dick Winters, the infinitely respected leader of Easy Company in WWII.
I hear marching from down the street and decide we need to take cover. We cross the main road onto a patch of grassland, diving into a shallow ditch to conceal us. I realise that its a good job that I was wearing camouflage trousers and an olive drab tee. The marching gets louder as a Nazi parade makes its way towards us. We head away from the road, through a small stretch of woodland and out into a field of long grass with a small lake at the other side. We make our way to the lake when we realise we're being chased by ravers from the 90s. Three glow-stick brandishing madmen charge towards us, so we break into a sprint towards the lake, throwing ourselves into a large thicket of stinging nettles.
The ravers eventually pass us and we continue along the lake until we come to a short road. At this point, three of the other patients catch up with us and agree to help us escape the Nazi occupied town. We follow the road through the town and end up entering a big farmhouse. There are no lights on in the house, but it sounds like someone is upstairs. Dick & I follow the other three up the stairs to find out what's going on and once at the top, it becomes apparent that there's someone taking a bath in one of the rooms. We decide to leave them be and quietly creep back downstairs, when we see someone entering the house's front door before us. I yank a piece of panelling from the wall just as the house's owner steps in. It is Sarah Corby, one of my flatmates from my first year of uni. Before she can raise the alarm, I hit her over the head with the panel, knocking her unconscious (never did like her much tbf).
We decide we need to leave asap, and head through the conservatory to the back door, but just as we're approaching, someone starts to come through the back too. There are no obvious weapons to hand so everyone finds cover to hide behind. In the centre of the room, I have no such luck, and crouch down by a table and chair. This other girl, who's like a twisted amalgam of Katie Wild, Keeley & someone else I can't place, walks in and stops just by the table. I'm directly in front of her, but its dark and I figure she won't actually spot me unless I move or she directly looks my way.
The following scene is tense, cheesy and poorly written, as this girl starts saying things to herself like, 'oh I'll just put my coat down on this chair now' and places the clothing slowly right next to me, and 'oh I wonder where my bag is', and I notice the bag is only a few inches away from my crouched position. Stuff like this goes on for a while, where it seems certain that she'll spot me but never actually pays attention to all of these things she announces that she's going to do. Eventually this wears thin and she starts walking away into the house. I stand up just as she looks back into the conservatory and sees me.
Still unarmed, I decide I'm going to have to charm my way out; the girl has strange eyes and is actually pretty cute in a scrawny kind of way. I successfully manage to sweet talk her into letting us go and the five of us manage to escape before she finds Sarah. On my way out of the house there are two cats. One of them gives me a high five.
And then I woke up.
Its a warm night. I'm walking alone down a main road and pass a strange building on my right hand side. It almost seems like a renovated fire station or something - large openings along its broad side, separated by thick, sturdy pillars. Looking in from the street into the one long room behind the wall, I spot a mobile x-ray machine (one of GE's AMX models) in a far corner. I let myself in to have a look around; the room is very long, but not very wide, with a row of simple iron bed frames along both lengths of wall. It is a very old-fashioned hospital ward.
Around half of the beds are occupied by patients, though they don't pay me much attention. I walk over to the mobile and start pushing it through the middle of the room when a man appears in front of me. He is tall, old, balding, and looks slightly like John Cleese - which is fitting, because the guy's irate. He gives me a bollocking for breaking into this place and committing grand theft AMX. I explain that I'm the radiographer, but that just gets him angrier at me for not using the main entrance or introducing myself to him first. I turn round to put the machine back, but slip on the floor and hit my head on the side of one of the beds, injuring my neck pretty badly.
As I'm laid on the floor with my head resting on the side of the bed and unable to move, I look around the room at the other patients. Señor Chang from Community is on the bed across from me, he's being vaguely annoying in his typical Chang way. Further down the room, I can see maybe ten other patients, one of whom is also on the floor, with their head just above the bed like me. The beds all begin to rattle as an earthquake shakes the room. One of the patients from the other end of the wards shouts 'flash', I automatically reply 'thunder', the WWII challenge and response used by the allies in Europe to distinguish friend from foe in the dark.
From here, the other patients, minus Chang, and I start discussing our love of Band of Brothers, when a second earthquake hits much more violently. Bricks from the wall above us start falling down, and I manage to drag myself under the bed for protection as we realise that it's no earthquake - we're under artillery fire. Forgetting that I'm paralysed, I manage to escape from the hospital through a newly-blown hole in the wall with one other patient: Major Dick Winters, the infinitely respected leader of Easy Company in WWII.
I hear marching from down the street and decide we need to take cover. We cross the main road onto a patch of grassland, diving into a shallow ditch to conceal us. I realise that its a good job that I was wearing camouflage trousers and an olive drab tee. The marching gets louder as a Nazi parade makes its way towards us. We head away from the road, through a small stretch of woodland and out into a field of long grass with a small lake at the other side. We make our way to the lake when we realise we're being chased by ravers from the 90s. Three glow-stick brandishing madmen charge towards us, so we break into a sprint towards the lake, throwing ourselves into a large thicket of stinging nettles.
The ravers eventually pass us and we continue along the lake until we come to a short road. At this point, three of the other patients catch up with us and agree to help us escape the Nazi occupied town. We follow the road through the town and end up entering a big farmhouse. There are no lights on in the house, but it sounds like someone is upstairs. Dick & I follow the other three up the stairs to find out what's going on and once at the top, it becomes apparent that there's someone taking a bath in one of the rooms. We decide to leave them be and quietly creep back downstairs, when we see someone entering the house's front door before us. I yank a piece of panelling from the wall just as the house's owner steps in. It is Sarah Corby, one of my flatmates from my first year of uni. Before she can raise the alarm, I hit her over the head with the panel, knocking her unconscious (never did like her much tbf).
We decide we need to leave asap, and head through the conservatory to the back door, but just as we're approaching, someone starts to come through the back too. There are no obvious weapons to hand so everyone finds cover to hide behind. In the centre of the room, I have no such luck, and crouch down by a table and chair. This other girl, who's like a twisted amalgam of Katie Wild, Keeley & someone else I can't place, walks in and stops just by the table. I'm directly in front of her, but its dark and I figure she won't actually spot me unless I move or she directly looks my way.
The following scene is tense, cheesy and poorly written, as this girl starts saying things to herself like, 'oh I'll just put my coat down on this chair now' and places the clothing slowly right next to me, and 'oh I wonder where my bag is', and I notice the bag is only a few inches away from my crouched position. Stuff like this goes on for a while, where it seems certain that she'll spot me but never actually pays attention to all of these things she announces that she's going to do. Eventually this wears thin and she starts walking away into the house. I stand up just as she looks back into the conservatory and sees me.
Still unarmed, I decide I'm going to have to charm my way out; the girl has strange eyes and is actually pretty cute in a scrawny kind of way. I successfully manage to sweet talk her into letting us go and the five of us manage to escape before she finds Sarah. On my way out of the house there are two cats. One of them gives me a high five.
And then I woke up.
Big Bird
Night of Thursday, 15.05.2014
The notes for this dream simply read.
"Big Bird mom pregnant Alex Dave earthquake dogs"
I do not remember this dream.
The notes for this dream simply read.
"Big Bird mom pregnant Alex Dave earthquake dogs"
I do not remember this dream.
Alien Commander
Night of Tuesday, 13.05.2014
It's autumn. I'm dressed up as an alien commander. This apparently entails white trousers and a white tunic with grey sleeves past the elbow. On the front of the uniform is an orange planet with a large ring system kind of like Saturn, but I'm fairly certain my mind took the image from Marvel Comics' old Captain Marvel character as opposed to any actual celestial body. On top of my head is a white skull-cap with fake antennae things on them (again, though this is a fairly standard look for aliens, I can pin the image down to a few little green men drawn in Nextwave). I can't remember exactly why I was dressed as Alien Commander to begin with, I think it was some kind of joke, but once I was in the suit, I decided to make a music video.
The video involved me, as Alien Commander, and two other people, I think it was little Will & Mooreman, in similar costumes walking around outside in a single file line, sped up to maybe double speed. We're generally bopping along to the music, and for some reason - to seem more alien like I guess - we keep our elbows stuck to the sides of our torso and our forearms out in front of us at 90 degrees, palm down. The three of us carry on wandering around like this for a while, at one point crossing over the Abbey Road zebra crossing.
We finish filming, but carry on walking around in costume. We walk past a building that I recognise as the university theatre. This place defies all logic and can only be described as a building tuned insude out: I looked into it from my position with the orange leaves on the pavement and somehow I was at once looking into the outside, and looking at my position at the actual outside from the inside. If that sounds confusing, try working out the schematics when the damn thing's standing there in front of you. There's a huge applause from inside/outside.
It turns out that this Alien Commander character is incredibly famous and has a massive fandom. All these people dressed up as Alien Commander just cheering me from the building. A few of them guide me in (/out) where all these weird people are treating me like some kind of hero. Two of these acolytes guide me to the stage, but unlike a theatre where the stage is at the bottom and the stalls and circle and things slowly rise up and away from it, this place had a load of seats and raised opera boxes & viewing areas all in a very steep ascension towards a stage at the peak of the mountainous upside-down auditorium. There was no roof to the building from the inside and once I was on top of the stage-summit, I looked down at my adoring audience and then to the sea a short distance away. There's a dark grey & white striped lighthouse, and I remember thinking how strange it is to be looking at it's tower from my position far above.
I give a thankful speech to all of these fans; they all laugh at my jokes. I'm explaining how funny and overwhelming this all is, when a group of rebels try to assassinate me. I can't exactly remember how.
The crowd erupt into a frenzy. A chill runs up my spine as I realise this entire Alien Commander Convention was engineered by these assassins as a means to kill me off. No-one can ID or catch the rebels as everyone in the building is wearing the same dumb outfit, so people are screaming and panicking and everything. As soon as it happens, I'm whisked off stage by my uni mates, Jacob, Guy & Kris, who try and get me to safety. Looking back at the stage behind me, I see that a ghost dressed as Alien Commander has taken my place and is alternating between trying to pacify the crowd and performing improvised observational comedy.
By now, we are deep in the heaving chaos of the panicked crowd. Kris realises that he's left the window to his flat open and argues that he has to go back to shut it Guy, Jacob and I argue that it's far too dangerous to go back now. We manage to drag him all the way down to the bottom of University Theatre where we hit the bar. I enjoy a nice hoppy pint of pale ale, and we all order bacon fries.
And then I woke up.
It's autumn. I'm dressed up as an alien commander. This apparently entails white trousers and a white tunic with grey sleeves past the elbow. On the front of the uniform is an orange planet with a large ring system kind of like Saturn, but I'm fairly certain my mind took the image from Marvel Comics' old Captain Marvel character as opposed to any actual celestial body. On top of my head is a white skull-cap with fake antennae things on them (again, though this is a fairly standard look for aliens, I can pin the image down to a few little green men drawn in Nextwave). I can't remember exactly why I was dressed as Alien Commander to begin with, I think it was some kind of joke, but once I was in the suit, I decided to make a music video.
The video involved me, as Alien Commander, and two other people, I think it was little Will & Mooreman, in similar costumes walking around outside in a single file line, sped up to maybe double speed. We're generally bopping along to the music, and for some reason - to seem more alien like I guess - we keep our elbows stuck to the sides of our torso and our forearms out in front of us at 90 degrees, palm down. The three of us carry on wandering around like this for a while, at one point crossing over the Abbey Road zebra crossing.
We finish filming, but carry on walking around in costume. We walk past a building that I recognise as the university theatre. This place defies all logic and can only be described as a building tuned insude out: I looked into it from my position with the orange leaves on the pavement and somehow I was at once looking into the outside, and looking at my position at the actual outside from the inside. If that sounds confusing, try working out the schematics when the damn thing's standing there in front of you. There's a huge applause from inside/outside.
It turns out that this Alien Commander character is incredibly famous and has a massive fandom. All these people dressed up as Alien Commander just cheering me from the building. A few of them guide me in (/out) where all these weird people are treating me like some kind of hero. Two of these acolytes guide me to the stage, but unlike a theatre where the stage is at the bottom and the stalls and circle and things slowly rise up and away from it, this place had a load of seats and raised opera boxes & viewing areas all in a very steep ascension towards a stage at the peak of the mountainous upside-down auditorium. There was no roof to the building from the inside and once I was on top of the stage-summit, I looked down at my adoring audience and then to the sea a short distance away. There's a dark grey & white striped lighthouse, and I remember thinking how strange it is to be looking at it's tower from my position far above.
I give a thankful speech to all of these fans; they all laugh at my jokes. I'm explaining how funny and overwhelming this all is, when a group of rebels try to assassinate me. I can't exactly remember how.
The crowd erupt into a frenzy. A chill runs up my spine as I realise this entire Alien Commander Convention was engineered by these assassins as a means to kill me off. No-one can ID or catch the rebels as everyone in the building is wearing the same dumb outfit, so people are screaming and panicking and everything. As soon as it happens, I'm whisked off stage by my uni mates, Jacob, Guy & Kris, who try and get me to safety. Looking back at the stage behind me, I see that a ghost dressed as Alien Commander has taken my place and is alternating between trying to pacify the crowd and performing improvised observational comedy.
By now, we are deep in the heaving chaos of the panicked crowd. Kris realises that he's left the window to his flat open and argues that he has to go back to shut it Guy, Jacob and I argue that it's far too dangerous to go back now. We manage to drag him all the way down to the bottom of University Theatre where we hit the bar. I enjoy a nice hoppy pint of pale ale, and we all order bacon fries.
And then I woke up.
 |
| Alien Commander |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)