dream
/drēm/
Noun
A series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person’s mind during sleep.
Verb
Experience dreams during sleep: “I dreamed about her last night”.
Synonyms
noun. reverie – vision – daydream – sleep
verb. daydream – fancy
That is the definition I got from Professor Google.
I experienced a dream last night. I will do my best to place it into words.
_____________
I was wearing sweats and a hoodie as I walked down an alley with Burgess Meredith.

I looked at him and said,
“Hey, aren’t you the guy from the Rocky movies?”
He looked back at me with a scowl, in his gruff voice he replied as he spit on me,
“Yeah, but you are no Rocky Balboa…your fighter name will be Rookie Bumbalo. Now, shut up and follow me.”
I did shut up but not without a “awww check out the tough old man” look.
As we reached the end of the alley and proceeded into the open square between the buildings I noticed a cage of chickens in the corner.
“Unless you got a plucker and a fryer those fowls won’t do me any good, Mick…” I said confidently.
“If you can catch ’em, we can eat ’em, Rook. These will teach you speed. You need speed to be a fighter.” He said as he pulled a chicken out of the cage.
“I don’t even want to be a fighter…I already know I’m a bleeder….I don’t need someone to punch me in the face to know that.”
“Once you get speed…you won’t get punched in the face.” He yelled as he threw the chicken in the air. “NOW CHASE THAT CHICKEN!”
Without thinking I began to chase the chicken….looking much like a child chasing a quarter rolling down the street.

Somehow within a few seconds I caught the chicken. I grabbed it by the neck and swung it around like a lasso in triumphant fashion.
SNAP
The head broke away from the body. The body and legs started running around on its own until the nerves gave out, leaving a lifeless body on the ground.
Mick looked at me, shaking his head and replied,
“I must have picked a defective chicken. We need to change strategies to get you speed, Rook.”
“What are you talking about? You said catch the chicken…and I did. What are you…”I tried to say before he interjected with one old index finger held up in the air in defiance.
“SEND IN THE CLOWNS!!” He screamed as he released 4 chickens into the alley.
“Clowns? I don’t even like clowns….they scare me.” I sheepishly said.
“They you will get speed AND get over a fear! CHASE THOSE CHICKENS!”
I sighed, looked at him and said before I began the chase, “I hate you old man!”
All of a sudden a multi colored Volkswagen Bug pulls into the alley. The doors open and clowns start rumbling out with their big red shoes, over sized polka dot clothes and painted faces and red noses. Some are holding and squeezing bike horns. Others are juggling. Some are pulling endless scarves out their pockets. All are laughing their creepy clown laughs.

The create a large circle around me. I try to break the chain but to no avail.
Mick is standing on empty crates outside the clown circle clapping his hands and laughing like the penguin character he used to play.

My nerves were pretty much shot. I’m running around in a circle chasing ninja Usain Bolt chickens while seeing various oversized different colored hopping clown shoes. I was within seconds of throwing in the towel when from outside the circle Mick yells,
“You can’t quit Rook! Let’s make it more interesting. Let the bomb squad commence firing!”
From the windows in the building above the alley I heard the excited screams of young children. Within seconds I am being bombarded with water balloons….while chasing chickens…that are surrounded by freaking clowns.

The water is causing the clowns make up to begin dripping off their faces, the chickens are running into the clown feet and bouncing off like bumper cars, Mick is still clapping and cheering me on.
I stop in the middle of the circle look up and yell,
“YO ADRIAN…I CAN’T DO IT!!”
And wake up in my own bed….with a half eaten McChicken sandwich clutched in my one hand and an empty glass which used to have water in it in the other. The water is spilled all over the bed and me. The credits for “Rocky II” are scrolling on the flat screen.
I feel like a Kentucky Fried Idiot.