Recent DJ Posts

5:30 AM

Part One
Found myself with restless male DCs, fighting, wrestling etc. They were pretty typical except that they seemed to be from the old west some how. One of the DC's was pretty different from the rest however. He somewhat resembled Michel J. Fox and carried a small pearl handled revolver. I decided to call him 42 and for some reason the fancy name suited him. This scene quickly evolved into a pre bar fight as we entered an old, cramped, poorly lit, dry and dusty bar / shop. Sitting at a small round table were a couple old possibly confederate men minding there own business. There were a few more standing around the place.

Not long after that a few DCs started talking smack about the old men in the building. I can't remember exactly what they were saying but it was something along the lines of "they bunch of money hungry bastards, blah, blah, blah." One of the guys at the table had enough of this crazy talk. I could see he was missing quite a few teeth as he clearly stated the obvious fact that "Do we look like we's rich folk?!!" "Cmon look over at 42 that fancy boy of yours",,,,,,,,,,,, a fight broke out as 42 who was standing by a beverage fridge reached for his revolver.

Part Two
The bar/shop quickly transitioned into a gas station with old west features as we proceeded to rob the place. The old DCs were all gone except two regular guys who I figured to be owner and manager of the gas station. Also, my original gang was armed while the two old guys no longer had weapons. I found the owner fumbling with a cash register so I plunged my (looked similar to a 9mm Glock but bigger) into his back. As he tried to put the handful of cash into a safe I noticed that they were large denominations. (dream reality $200 bills) and $500 dollar bills. He mostly ignored my gun and I had to snatch at the cash he wouldn't let go of. I got some of it and decided that it was time to go. Before I headed for the door the store manager handed me a receipt with lots of circles and numbers written in different color ink.

I began to worry whether or not the cops were waiting outside or not. I was bright outside so maybe we could make a dash for the forest behind the gas station and meet our getaway van at the road below. Or chance it pulling up front. I thought about finger prints for some reason and clumsily stuffed the gun under my shirt as I dropped some crumpled up paper on the floor. I woke up as we bolted out of the door.

note: If you haven't guessed I know nothing about guns or burglary.