memorable

Mission Accomplished: Corporate Complex Breakout


I was undercover, yet I had been walking along the streets, talking to various people, keeping tabs. I turned around the corner, and there is a man from somewhere that I recognized. I knew that this man was trouble… and "a total fucking douche bag." (very specific memory of this). He was an enemy agent

I turned around and started going the other way, but his partner was around the corner, resting on a motorcycle. Fight or Flight set in, and I decided to both. I ran across the street to a small work site, that was littered with piles of lumber, concrete, rebar and other various debris. I grabbed a big rod of rebar, and I heard a dream character yell out some advice, and told me that it was probably the best idea to get rid off the asshole on the bike.

I was already on the same train of thought as I go back into the middle of the street, and welcome the men to fight. In the middle of the street, the cyclist was circling me, and I tried a few times to shove the rod into the front tire, so that that it would get caught and flip the motorcycle, but I failed. However, after a little bit, he dejectedly left… and I moved on to the mission I was supposed to carry out.

I didn't see either of the enemy agents nearby, so I ran across the street and into a corporate complex. My mission was to break somebody OUT of the large and epic complex. I made my way, undetected, though the ducts of the building. The strange thing about this complex was that in a section, they kept and maintained holding cells, like a mini jail. I sneaked into an empty holding and I pretended to be a prisoner, just long enough to construct something, or do something.

The cell was actually unlocked the entire time, it was just merely the illusion that I was an inmate. The reason I was in the cell was because down the hall, directly across from my cell was another cell, one with someone actually in it. I monitored the inmate.

After a little bit, I left the cell through the unlocked door, and went down the hall. I picked up what I thought be a large wooden rod, as well as a nice little dagger or knife, ‘just in case.’ I had no real intention to use the knife. I went down another hall to where my destination was, an office room

In the corner was a desk with an older man with white hair and a white mustache sitting behind it. I ran up as quickly as possible wielding the wooden rod, and swung it hard over my head, and brought it down on the man’s head, trying to knock him out. The wood splintered, thin and weak, and had absolutely no effect on the old man. I swung again, but to no avail… and he called out to the guards for help.

Panicking, I pulled the dagger out and stabbed the man once in the chest… but I felt guilty about it, so I didn’t plunge it any more to ‘finish’ the job. The problem was that I stabbed him when I was in view of the guards that were approaching, so my cover had been blown.

I ran like a bat out of hell, and somehow, the person I was there to rescue or recover was with me, running with me. We outran the guards and made it out of the complex, with the guards in tow, but further behind. Out in the street I pointed to work site across the road.

Suddenly we had hardhats and bright orange vests, as we ran to a car similar to the PG& E Service Truck, with the elevated box is lifted to high places, like a telephone pole.


We climbed up the arm and into into the box, and got into character as if we’ve been working the site the whole time.

From above we saw the guards and men spill out into the street, looking around. They ran through the work site, and directly underneath the two of ‘us’ who were completely incognito… and we ‘won’ and escaped.

Mission Accomplished

Health Care Lesson From Tupac



I stood in a crowded bar, watching people, but without any type of drink. The energy was high and the dream characters seemed to be having a good time. The energy shifted drastically when Tupac Shakur arrived at the scene. All of a sudden Tupac pulled out two hand-held pistols and shot the place up. Now, I don't know if Tupac was there specifically to shoot me or to settle the score with someone else, nonetheless I had been caught in the crossfire. 7 bullets lodged into my body, as I felt the pressure twist me around. I felt each bullet inside of me. One in my chest just below the clavicle, one in my right bicep, two in the groin area of my inner thighs, one in my left leg in the quad, and a bullet went through each of my calves. I fell against the bar, and panic erupted in the bar.

I stumbled out of the bar, intent on living. I wasn't in pain as-so-much as shock. I wasn't afraid that I would just drop dead, I was mostly afraid that Tupac would exit the bar and finish the job. Bleeding, my only intent was to make my way to the nearest hospital as quickly as possible. Luckily, the hospital was only a dream block away. So I shuffled my way to the hospital, feeling every bullet in me as I walked.

I quickly arrived upon the hospital and shuffled into the ER lobby. I had bled profusely everywhere I went, but the receptionist didn't even seem to notice. She simply shoved a clipboard towards me and told me to have a seat and fill out some paperwork. I remember saying, incredulously, "Seriously!?" before accepting this and sitting down. I was uncomfortable because I was bleeding on the chair, the table next to me, the clipboard and the floor, and I didn't want to bleed on the other people in in the lobby.

So I stepped backoutside and leaned against the wall next to the automatic sliding doors of the hospital. I tried my best to fill out the paperwork, but I couldn't concentrate, I had lost too much blood and energy. That's when I grew dizzy from blood-loss and threw up on the exterior of the hospital's walls, before I woke up.