I think I must be afraid of heights

(Just a word of warning to the weak of constitution, Star Wars™™ references and clichés will abound. You may also find a Lord of the Rings quote as well. That is all.)

Had a pretty interesting dream last night and just figured I'd share. It's odd and kind of strange when I actually remember my dreams, usually I have no memory of the things I dream at night. However, when I do remember, I remember a lot of them or I recall one particularly vividly. This was a case of the latter.

The first thing I remember is that I was directing a large scale space battle. Now at a glance, it's obvious to me, even in a dream state that isn't just any space battle. This is a Star Wars™™(!!!) space battle. I can only assume this has something to do with the fact that Empire at War just came out and I've had a hankerin' something fierce to play it. So anyway, I'm directing this major space battle and it's hard to tell whether or not we're winning or losing, I'm just having all my ships shoot at all the other ships and kind of hoping for the best. It seems I'm not a great tactician without my waking mind to guide me. At one point it becomes clear to me that the opposition, the rebel scum, are planning to board one of my major ships. As soon as the ships make contact with one another, my dream switches from the perspective of an RTS to an Shooter. All of a sudden, I was on the deck of my ship which was about to be boarded and cycling through an array of ordinance the likes of which God has never seen. So we, me and my faithful crew aboard the ISD Helotry awaited the boarding party with our "nines cocked," if you will. So the door blow open and who should storm aboard but Han and Chewie. Well we fought on undaunted, no scruffy looking nerf-herder or his walking carpet were going to take down my ship, especially in my fucking dream world. I loaded up my hot little sniper laser thing and put two into Chewie's forehead before he could say, "AHHH-NNNHH-GHHHHH."

I'm here to impart to you some very important wisdom. Even in the world of dreams, Wookiees are tough as balls.

I shot him. I shot him twice, in the head. Soon after I had one seriously pissed off Wookiee on my ass. So I ran. I ran fast and I ran long. I ran like my ass was on fire and my hair was catching. There were a couple of close calls and he very nearly took my head off at a couple of junctures but all the while my valiant crew was lighting that big bastard up like Yavin 4.

I eventually made it out into the parking lot of a shopping mall. Because, obviously, ISDs have their own commerce district. I warned the nearest police officer I could find that the Rebel Scum™ had boarded the ship and were on their way. He dutifully offered me his sidearm and went off to warn the populace. I turned and saw my fate before me as the tireless Chewbacca burst through the door and slowly approached. I continued backing off and loaded the pistol the cop had given me and raised it for my final showdown.

A shot rang out.

I looked up and Chewie seemed as dazed as I was but he fell. Through fire and water, from the lowest dungeon to the highest peak I fought the Wookiee of Kashyyyk, until at last I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin up on the... curb... side. Yeah, I killed him. I killed Chewbacca, with a gun. If I learned anything from the whole experience is that energy weapons are shit versus Wookiees. Ballistic weapons on the other hand, smoke their furry asses.

-Kroy has gone offline


That's why all the folks on Rocky Top get their corn from a jar