Last night I dreamed that I was one of hundreds of people being held hostage in a gymnasium by Mel Gibson. We were all seated in rows of chairs, and Gibson was walking behind each row, going from person to person with a revolver, holding the gun to the back of each person's head. He had only one bullet in the gun; it was a Russian roulette game in which he'd pull the trigger, then spin the barrel again and move on to the next person. I can only remember the dream after he had already passed me and was moving farther down the row. He stopped to intimidate and insult one cowering guy, then resumed, and I thought to myself, "When he gets to the people directly behind me, I'm going to leave to use the restroom, because I don't want to get splattered if the gun goes off." However, when I woke up, I just thought, "We would have torn Mel Gibson limb from limb."
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