James' Dream Diary: Entry #4564685

I’m in a large theater, watching a terrible horror movie. The scene I’m watching shows a doctor operating on various decommissioned zombies in an attempt to figure out what made them zombies in the first place. Upon cutting open the first zombie, it explodes. All the viscera then forms together to form an alien with a yellow tint in its skin color. Upon cutting that open, it explodes in a gratuitous shower of gore and turns into an even larger alien with veiny bug eyes. The doctor tries to cut it open one more time, and finds himself trapped in a mucus-like substance after the creature explodes again. This scene repeats itself, with different doctors and different zombies, eventually becoming nothing more than an excuse for a set of large intestines to fly at the camera while yellow goo floods this lab. The director of the lab gets really pissed off, and shuts down the project.

This movie is stupid. Everyone else I’m with seems to think the same thing, so we find a way to turn it off. For whatever reason, every television station in America is currently down, meaning there is nothing else to watch on this big screen. We paid good money to get in, we weren’t leaving without a show. A couple of tech wizards in the crowd pull out a wrestling simulator. What this does is two people stand behind a screen and pretend to fight. On the other side of the screen is a live audience. Rather than see average people faking a brutal showdown, the screen projects the image of two well built men or women competing in a test of wills. The poor audience has no idea how fake their sport really is. I give it a shot. Suddenly, I change from a small, 120-lbs scene kid into a hulking, long-haired brute who tackles random people with no real rhyme or reason. However, the machine breaks before I can get my chance to be on t.v (even though all the networks were out of service), so I just head back down to the floor, which has gone from an average movie theater to a large slumber party, the seats now sleeping bags.

I find a couple of my friends in the crowd. We chat for a while. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the popular actor Robert Pattinson playing an acoustic guitar to nobody in particular. I turn to one of my friends, an artistic, slightly clumsy girl who I’m somewhat attracted to. I tell her we should get some photos of us with Robert because man, that would be such a great conversation starter when we post them on Facebook! Instead, she tells me, “Why don’t we just take some photos up in my bedroom instead?” I agree immediately, and we try to make our way out of the theater.

Unfortunately, my friend Ella, probably still worked up from the wrestling simulator, takes the both of us to the ground with a full body tackle. As a result, the two of us are unable to do anything besides sit up. Rather than get angry over the fact that my friend has just cockblocked me, the three of us begin gossiping like bored housewives at a beauty parlor. Mostly just talking about how, Oh My God, Robert Pattinson is like, sooooo hot.

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