Random Blogness: Of Zombies and Bears
Not too long ago, I put up a list of dreams I have had that made better stories than the Twilight novels. To be fair, I think a lot of people have had better dreams than Stephenie Meyer’s, but the list did at least demonstrate to me that my dreams tend to be heavy on zombie apocalypse themes. Such was the case in a more recent dream, which I am writing about here for the sake of posterity rather than out of some vain hope that I’ll be able to mine it for material in the next New York Times best-seller.
This dream took me back to my home town of St. Johnsbury, Vermont, where I and a number of my friends had holed up in my mother’s trailer while the rest of the world suffered through a zombie apocalypse. Just for the record, my mother’s trailer is one of the last places I would want to be in case of a zombie outbreak – its walls and floor are flimsy and it has too many entry points to make barricading effective. Luckily, it seems that the zombies were ignoring rural St. Johnsbury, probably because there were very few tasty brains available outside of the local high school. No, my initial problem in this dream was not zombies, but rather one very aggressive bear.
While hanging around outside and talking with my friend Nick, a large black bear shambled down the road and decided that I would make a tasty snack. It completely ignored everybody else there, including Nick, and went gunning straight for me. As I locked myself in the trailer and out of reach of the bear, I noted to Nick that this was about my luck: escape the zombies completely unscathed only to get hounded by a hungry bear. But the bear seemed incapable of getting through the locked door – or at least it wanted me to think that – so we all settled down for a good night’s sleep.
As night fell, the bear went into action. It somehow managed to get in through the back door without making a sound, then slipped by a number of people who were sleeping down the hall. It got all the way to the living room, where I was sleeping on the couch, before anybody noticed it. Then the malicious bastard attacked me, ignoring all the other potentially tasty treats in the living room with me.
I put up a valiant struggle, but this is a bear we’re talking about and I have a very un- Rooseveltian tendency to lose fights against wild animals. As the bear clamped its jaws around my arm, I yelled in desperation, “Why do you never read any newspaper headlines about muscular gay men who are crack shots and save people from bears?!”
No sooner had I spoken than a gunshot sounded and the bear dropped dead, a bullet through its head. Turning around, I saw a muscular gay man who was a crack shot and had just saved me from a bear. He had a crew cut, so I’m assuming he had some military training. Any fans of Freud probably love the fact that a burly gay man coming from the direction of my childhood bedroom used a large phallic gun to kill a black beast that was on top of me.
With the bear dead, we decided that the house was no longer secure, since the back door was broken open (although I still don’t know how the bear broke down the back door without making a sound). So we burned my childhood home to the ground and headed into town. Unfortunately, that was zombie country. While others took on the zombies, the guy who played Tobias from Arrested Development helped me hotwire a van to make our escape from St. Johnsbury. (Actually, he was dressed as Andy from Running Wilde, but it’s the same actor and I’m guessing more people have seen Arrested Development.)
Sadly, my alarm went off and woke me up at that point. I’ve been hoping to get a sequel to the dream, since the characters were very underdeveloped, especially my heroic rifleman who never said a word and whose only relevant character traits right now are that he’s gay and a crack shot. I rarely have sequel dreams, though, so it looks like this one will get filed under incomplete stories until I run low on story ideas and decide to expand upon this surrealistic tale of zombies and stealth bears.