So I just woke up and I actually remember my dream, which never happens, and it is odd. Analyze this if you dare.
I'm at home and doing normal stuff like talking to my family. It's the middle of the day, the house is a mess, my dad for some reason decides to take a shower, my mom is busy with something (I think she was on the computer) and Beth is nowhere to be found being most likely in bed.
So I'm trying to clean the house when the phone rings. It is a policewoman asking if our mailbox is still there because it looks like someone demolished it. I look out of the window...onto a street that looks nothing like the one we like on. That doesn't faze me at all, neither does the huge 16-wheeler that is parked in front of our house and very close to the mailbox which for some reason is out by the road instead of way up by the house where it should be. No, I calmly tell her, the mail box is fine. Thank you for calling.
I'm about to hang up when a policeMAN now comes on the line and reports that they just spotted a thief making his way to our house and if we have any trouble capturing him, please give them a call or call 1-800-##### (yeah right. Like I'll remember numbers ever, even in a dream! Now THAT would be weird.)
Completely unfazed by their lack of help I calmly go down stairs, inform my mother that the police just alerted us to the fact that we are about to be robbed (while we are home, stupid thief) and armed myself with the first things I saw. A yardstick and a blanket. I must have been thinking of the gladiators some time yesterday and the one that fought with the trident and net.
The robber comes in the front door (without knocking of course, because knocking is for sissies) and is carrying a *huge* sledge hammer. I don't know why he didn't just knock me out with the thing but he didn't. I gave him a far warning that the house was occupied. ("There's six people here buddy so you better leave! " I told you numbers and I don't like each other 'cause I only count 4 in the light of day.)
He grunted and started in towards where he thought the lout would be. So I tried to hit him with the yard stick but that didn't work because there wasn't enough weight. I tried to trip him with the blanket and that really didn't work. The whole time I was doing this he was ignoring me, probably hoping I would just give up and let him work, and my mom was just watching the whole thing!
I *finally* through away my "weapons" and gave him and good, old-fashioned .... indian burn. Of course I haven't done that since I was ~12 and tried it on my best friendýs little sister when she was bothering us and I kind of forgot how. I just twisted his whole arm. The robber seemed to think it was funny. I believe he said "keep on twisting". With that kind of invitation I had to. So I dislocated his shoulder.
The expression on his face was wonderful. I don't know how my brain ever thought it up. A mixture of surprise, confusion, and a lot of pain. He just stood there while we tried to get it contact with the police. I was very worried that they got him quickly, not because he might run away, but because we've been studying the musculoskeletal system and I was worried that his shoulder would become necrotic if someone didn't relocate it soon.
And that it where I woke up, and tried not to laugh me head off.
*EDIT--retrospectively it probably wasn't all that funny, and might in fact show that I'm severely disturbed. But I've always kinda suspected that.*