Oct. 9th, 2012

cremains: (drunken vulcan)
I dreamt I was the captain of an all-baby genius strike force whose mission was to infiltrate a submarine and destroy it from within. We sunk into the ocean carrying large tupperware containers; if we failed to find one of the ocean's oxygen bubbles (which laced the water, but were undetectable except by trial breathing), we could always peel up one of the tupperware containers and breathe in its air.

We successfully broke inside the giant brass submarine, but one by one all my baby commandos died, mostly of oxygen deprivation and phosphorus burns. Some were also shot. Finally I managed to escape, together with my right hand baby. We cut our losses and snuck out through the airlock, and quickly took some tiny pills to prevent ourselves from getting the bends. Then we rapidly ascended through the water, finally surfacing by a cobbly shore reminiscent of MarioWorld. The mission was a disastrous failure.

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cremains: (Default)
this hill is far enough

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