Sunday, October 7, 2012

Is it ok if we have four prompts but three of them are jokes?

Prompt 1: Write a paper about French politics in French.
Prompt 2: Write a paper about French politics in English, copy and paste it into google translate, copy and paste that into MS Word to correct grammer mistakes, print the result, and submit it as your response to prompt 1.
Prompt 3: Explain how you cheated through French class.
Prompt 4 (serious prompt): Describe a dream you've had lately.


            The reason I came up with prompt 4 is because I recently had one of the strangest and most vivid dreams I have ever had and I’m afraid that if I won’t write it down I’ll forget it. It was the night of my grandfather’s birthday, and we went to Merrick Inn. I had lots of fried chicken and other fatty foods, which, according to my incredibly well read father, usually causes strange dreams.
Anyway, my dream began in an industrial warehouse/loading dock building made out of a bluish metal. The first thing that I noticed was the enormous and quite dilapidated bus that looked like it was made out of a dozen smaller buses. It was very bizarre the way it looked like different vehicles had been slapped together, and there were about six or seven men working on it, fixing or replacing various parts of this gargantuan rectangular zeppelin.
The next thing I noticed was the man sitting in front of me (I was also sitting) explaining to me the terms of a contract. I noticed that he was wearing the strangest glasses I had ever seen. They were rainbow with black lenses with large holes punched in the lenses, and they were so ridiculous that I laughed at them. He became annoyed and reminded me to pay attention if I wanted the job. Apparently, he and his men (for he was the leader) were thieves who drove around the country stealing forks. They had gotten so good at stealing forks that it became no fun anymore, so they decided to move up to stealing glasses. They wanted me to join their crew because the though that my glasses were very nice and I must have stolen them, so I would be a good glasses thief. Examining my glasses, I saw that they were not the ones I normally wear, but an enormous pair of horn rimmed, brilliantly purple sunglasses that were so reflective they were like a mirrors. Abruptly standing up and shaking my hand, the peculiar man wished me welcome and began to show me towards the bus.
Mismatched as the bus was outside, it was nothing compared to the inside, which consisted of a large central hallway with many rooms on both sides, most notably the kitchen, the armory, several bathrooms, the conference room, and two spiral staircases at the end that led up the to second floor where the living quarters for the thieves were (there were fifteen in all, including me). It was explained to me that this had once been a normal tour bus, but it had been expanded, mostly with metal melted down from the forks, as the needs of the crew grew. Beyond the stairs going up the living quarters was another spiral staircase going down to the cargo hold, which was filled with about a half million silver forks. The thieves had been stashing the best forks from years of heists and were planning to sell them all to a man who would give them several sports cars in return. These sports cars had, among other desirable things, enormous engines that were to be attached to the bus to double its maximum speed and acceleration. Throughout my tour, the other thieves were loading on to the bus, and we were moving by the time it was over.
On our way to meet the man we were to sell our forks to, we decided to rob a glasses store. As I learned, you can’t rob a glasses store like a normal store, with guns and knives and baseball bats, because you’ll break all the glasses. Instead, we sent a fake message to the telling them that the latest and most fashionable glasses were on their way in a large bus and to please have all the glasses in their store packaged and ready to be replaced by the new shipment. When we got there, disguised as glasses delivery men, we loaded up the glasses into the cargo hold and replaced them with empty boxes. By the time the poor store workers came out and picked up the boxes and realized they had been robbed, we had driven off.
As we continued to make our way to the man who was going to buy our forks, we began dividing up the glasses. They were unlike any glasses I had ever seen. Some had telescopic lenses, some had lenses like fly’s eye, some had gilded frames, some made everyone you looked at appear hideously ugly. I replaced my shiny purple glasses with a pair that had lion hair coming off the frame and lenses that made your eyes appear as if they were constantly changing color. Looking out the window, I saw we were in some sort of rocky desert, when all of a sudden the bus made a sharp left and began driving in an apparently arbitrary direction. After several miles we stopped at a concrete square sitting in the middle of the desert with a man standing in the center. The leader got out and had a quick word with him before telling us all to help unload the forks. This took several hours, and after we had finished the man inspected the forks until he was satisfied, then told us that the cars would be waiting for us in Hawaii.
Now, I don’t think that this was the Hawaii that you and I are familiar with, because it was very possible to drive to this Hawaii, which is exactly what we were planning on doing. As we had been unloading the forks, we had been uncovering a very interesting car that looked like a cross between a Jeep and a Humvee. It had an open driver’s seat and a passenger’s seat as well as a third seat in the back that had an impressive turret that could swivel 360 degrees. I was chosen to ride passenger while a short man with very long hair and opera glasses strapped to his head was the driver. His name was Patrick. Our gunner, an enormous man referred to simply as “Brick”, had a large and curly brown beard with glasses that looked like they were made out of nothing but black velvet. I was given a large shotgun, but I didn’t know what I was going to be shooting.
As we were driving down the desert road to Hawaii, we suddenly heard loud screeches from above. A flock of enormous birds that looked like pterodactyls with bat heads came swooping down towards us. Patrick continued speeding along like nothing was wrong, but Brick began shooting towards the swarm, so I did as well. My shotgun didn’t have the range to hit anything, but even the turret, which at first seemed to be slicing through the airborne predators, was barely making a dent in the pack that was heading for us. As they dove, they struck the car and racked it with their talons, but they didn’t do much damage to the car and even less to us. They were also well within range of my shotgun, and I managed to pick off a few of them as they swooped. They rose again and were clearly turning around to make for a second dive. The screeching could barely be heard over the now constant roar of the turret. I was franticly reloading to be ready when they were in range again. They were coming down again, wings flapping franticly, bullets whizzing past them, and…
I woke up in bed with my hands in the position of someone getting ready to blast nonexistent birds of prey into oblivion. I looked over to see that it was 4:30am and took a moment to be quietly thankful that nobody saw that. I went back to sleep and I haven’t dreamt since. 

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