AstronomyDomine

I am with a person who is eager to show me a house he just inherited. I am there to do some repairs/remodeling so he can turn it around and sell it. When we arrive we see how old and dilapidated it is. It looks like an old abandoned crack house. The front door is ajar and windows are wide open, the curtains fluttering in the breeze. We step cautiously into the house and are met by a homeless-looking man with a long beard and a crazy eyes - he is the schizophrenic brother of the man I am with. He has apparently moved into the house. He walks into the living room, holding a toothbrush. The two brothers begin fighting and screaming at each other: "Get out of this house!" "I ain't goin' nowhere! Mom and dad gave it to me!" "Mom and dad disinherited you!" "Like hell they did! One half of this fucker is mine!" And on and on they go, yelling at each other. The fighting eventually escalates from verbal to physical. The schizophrenic brother picks up a television and hurls it at us. We move out of the way and it smashes against the wall. We decide to leave. I suggest we go back to my place temporarily while we decide what to do.

The house we go to is my old home in West Islip, NY where I lived from 1984 to 1989. We sit down in the parlor and decide what course of action to take against his crazy brother. I suggest we hold him at gunpoint until the police come. We go down to the basement and I take out a bag of guns. I ask if he has a preference as to what gun we use on his brother: we have a .22 but we also have a lever-action 30/30. He says to use the .22, but I can't find it so we end up using the 30/30. Taking it out of the bag, I accidentally discharge a bullet through the basement ceiling. When I get up closer to inspect the bullet hole, the hole suddenly transforms and widens into an air conditioning vent. As we head back upstairs with the gun, I ask him if his brother will seek revenge on us for holding him at gunpoint. The answer is yes. I turn off the AC before leaving, but then change my mind and turn it back on. My parents will want the house nice and cool when they return from vacationing in Italy. Dreamt 2/9/2017

I am flying somewhere over the United States in an F-16 fighter jet. I am not the one actually flying the jet; it is being flown by a guy with dark sunglasses who looks like Swedish heavy-metal guitarist Yngwie J. Malmsteen. We are flying at night. I am very glad I am not the pilot, as I have no idea how to operate an F-16. I do have a job, however: my job is to control our altitude. I do this by shifting an M-16 assault rifle which is sticking up between us like a gear shaft. Leaning it down makes us go down; pulling it back makes the F-16 go up higher. The position of the barrel determines the direction of our altitude. I look out the window and see the terrain spread out beneath us like tiny twinkling Christmas lights. We are cruising at super-sonic speed, and Yngwie is very cool and relaxed behind his dark shades.

I point the barrel of the M-16 down and we start to descend. We suddenly hit some turbulence and the jet begins to rock and bounce around in the clouds. This frightens me. Suddenly I am not so sure what I am doing with my M-16 assault rifle altimeter. Should I go back up? Continue on course? I think to myself, one slip up and I'll kill us both! To my great relief, Yngwie grabs the barrel and lifts the entire gun out of its boot and puts it on his side. The jet stabilizes. We are safe. When we eventually land, I notice it I am in a vaguely familiar place - I recall the neighborhood from some prior dream fragment. Dreamt 2/7/2017