In a neighborhood residential street, a couple of street performers were enveloped by a crowd. I then saw one of the street performers inhaling a white powder through their nose, presumably as some sort of trick, though I suspected it was actually cocaine. In fact, more street performers and even audience members joined in on this “trick” and there became so much white powder in the air that it started to blow downstream with the wind.
I thought to myself, “am I going to get a second-hand cocaine high?”
Seconds later it hit me; I was definitely high. My mental state became very foggy, colors were changing, and everything became slightly more scary. Fortunately it was daytime so it wasn’t too scary. But as we left the crowd and started walking downhill on a street (we were on a steep hill like in those San Francisco streets), we approached a large cavern opening. Inside there was a jungle, but it was full of cliff edges with sheer drop offs (leading to more jungle below).
I spotted an evil-looking creature, something like a cross between a raptor and pterodactyl. One of my friends was too far ahead, and was cut off from the main party. The raptor looked like it might attack, and we needed backup. I then realized there were actually a lot of these flying raptor things. I saw that they could fly, as they were flying in the open space past where the cliffs dropped off. Fortunately, humans were standing on the edges of these cliffs and had the high ground. They were throwing boomerangs at the monsters to take them down.
I approached the people with the boomerangs and upon inquiry, discovered their weapon of choice: Plastic knives. These “natives” (actually they looked like college engineering students) had figured out how to weaponize plastic knives as boomerangs by throwing them in a specific way to control the population of the flying raptors. The problem was, the battle was at a critical point where they were running out of plastic knives and the raptors were still coming in droves. I needed to get more.
So I left the area to get more. I didn’t really know where I was going, but I’d know when I got there.
There were a number of strange obstacles I had to traverse, most of which I don’t remember. One of them stands out in my memory: An extremely steep escalator. The slope grew so steep that I had to grab onto the handrail to prevent tumbling down all the way back. And to complicate things, there were cars coming in the opposite direction. Yes, cars on escalators. I had to jump over each car. Most of them were sedans, but one of them was a minivan which was particularly challenging. The handrail became more than just a handrail; it was now flexible whip-like reigns. They could stay in my hand as I jumped over the cars so I could keep holding onto them.
I breathed a sigh of relief as we finally crested over the top.
After some more wandering I happened across a food court. Yes, this was the place. There must be plastic knives here, I thought. In a moment of panic I realized I had nothing but a T-shirt and jeans and nothing to carry them in. Then my jacket materialized around me. I found and gathered as many plastic knives as I could, stuffing them into my jacket pockets. I even managed to find a completely unopened pack of about 400 in a paper bag. Satisfied, I started to head back in the direction from which I came.
The “townspeople” of the food court understood the importance of my quest. They tasked one of their warriors, a young woman, to accompany me on the way back. But I was in a hurry, and she had other things to do, so as I ran on ahead of her, she asked if I needed a gun. I said yes, so she tossed me a blaster.
As I continued my quest back to the flying raptors location I promptly forgot about the gun and woman who both disappeared from the scene. But I still had the plastic knives; that was the important part.
I didn’t have to take the escalator with the cars this time. There was a tunnel that ran underneath the escalator, which wasn’t available before.
I stepped outdoors into snow. Really deep fluffy snow which slowed me down via the dreaded “dream walking”. I was on a college campus now, maybe University of Chicago, crossing small single-lane streets with cars backed up as far as the eye could see, and party music blaring from nearby frat houses. The sun was still out, but tonight would definitely be a party night. Clearly the setting surrounding the flying raptors had changed greatly. But it didn’t matter, because I still had the plastic knives, and I instinctively knew where to go.
I entered a frat house, which I knew would somehow lead to the jungle where the humans were in dire need of the plastic knives. There were two frat bros acting as gatekeepers, typical of many frat parties. I was lucky -- they only needed to see my ID and I’d be allowed inside. But when I took out my wallet, in place of where my ID should’ve been was a blank card along with the words “Fuck you, Max!” written on the backside (my brain must’ve gotten this from the TV series “Newsroom”).
I was doomed… but no. I checked the other card slots in my wallet. I took out an old wrinkly card which I’d had my entire life, and never really known what it was for. I didn’t even know why I kept it with me for so long. But here it was, and reading the words, I finally understood their meaning: “The man who would save the world, and would eventually need this card”. I handed this to the frat bros, who seemed to understand, and they let me through.
In the frat house, there were people in the know. They guided me through a couple doors/hallways and I stepped through a portal which led me to a beautiful outdoors park which was within walking distance of the jungle location. Here I finally offloaded all my plastic knives to a runner who would get them to the right people on time.
With the world having been saved, the tension was dramatically reduced. A melancholy soundtrack started to play: [Plastic Knives theme by Max Loh]. I took a walk around a nearby lake where quite a lot of people were playing or relaxing. A 7-year-old boy sat alone in front of an apparatus which looked like a totem pole made of legos. As he typed something into the totem pole, words started to appear and float over the lake: “I have had to hold Him back”. “Him” of course must have been referring to Lord Voldemort, who was the reason for the whole flying raptor infestation in the first place. The revelation was poignant: Even though Lord Voldemort hardly ever listened to anyone, he had a soft spot for the boy. If he was torturing someone and the boy told him to stop, he often would. The kid had power, but in a twisted way that must’ve been very stressful to bear. He had my sympathies.
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