Just had a dope dream. Forgive me for rambling...I just woke up, and I'm trying to remember everything.
I was part of a WWE event in a stadium. Strangely, I never saw a ring, and there was WAY more talking that there should have been. Even more strange: there was a children's choir involved, with WWE talent interspersed. That talent included me and some giant black dude I had never seen before. Things started to take off when I decided to quit in the middle of this convoluted angle, convinced that Vince McMahon – who was on air with us – was "playing the race card", and I wasn't having it. So, I angrily ripped off my tie (?) and confronted him. Naturally, he was pissed. I can't remember if there were cheers, but I'd like to think there were. I think there was security intervention, too. I was then demoted to "tarp layer" ("This is your job now," spat Vince.). Did I mention it was raining? Looking at this large bag that had tarp with ads on it, I decided that it wasn't for me. Besides that, folks were already putting tarp out on the field.
So, I decided to leave. While choosing an elevator, Lil' Wayne appeared. Of course, "A Milli" was playing in the background, and he jokingly smacked me on the ass with a wad of cash. Y'know, just to say "whut up?"
From there, things get a little foggy. There was a cool 90s soundtrack, probably based on some of the stuff that Co-op was spinning at the Art of Storytelling last night; plus these archaic, scratchy, yet color-saturated filmed vignettes of dating tips for girls.
So now, we're either on the second day of taping, or coming back from a long-ass commercial break, but Vince is making the rounds of the stadium, surrounded by cops. Somehow, I'm able to get close enough to trade middle fingers with him rather passionately. Getting outside of the stadium, I saw real-life WWE road agent Rick Steamboat, running in the rain, yelling something into the headset he was wearing. Me and some disembodied voice admired him, as we both knew that "he's still got it".
From there, a riot broke out, possibly stemming from my firing/demotion, and two runaway escalators injured and/or killed people. One of these escalators had jaws, and several people were released from its grasp. One female victim of the mouthed escalator breathed a sigh of relief, only to find that large, clean, cartoonish chunks were taken out of her. Death was imminent but it didn't come for her while my mind's camera was on her. She was comforted by folks nearby, one of whom told her that she should wear a certain outfit in her coffin, as she would look really hot. Macabre? Yes. But she seemed happy to oblige.
Cut to another dating vignette, then to a party, where The Rock – temporarily out of retirement – is practicing a promo. There's much slow-motion revelry and confetti, plus a great, poppy Sonic Youth/Choir Practice-sounding track in the background, melding my 90s nostalgia with something present. And I totally scooped the girl at the end. My line: "You haven't had any cake yet!" I think she was a combo of this girl I went to college with (ain't naming names) and Penina Segall from the 80s sitcom Sister Kate. How's that for obscure? She's the cutie in the wheelchair.