The zombie apocalypse was in full swing. I was a character in a sitcom and the rest of the cast of characters and I were coworkers trying to escape our workplace, which was some sort of walled compound filled with construction equipment, trucks and things, and some small storage silos. We wanted to make it from one end of the compound to the other, into a fenced in area, and up a tall tower of some kind.
One of our number, who slightly resembled a more ethnic version of Carla from Cheers, became zombified, but oddly did not behave fully zombie-like. She stumbled around as if drunk, but held beers or something in her hands and seemed to occasionally try to drink them. This confused the other zombies who would move towards her as if to attack and then lose interest when they got closer. She herself seemed to have little interest in eating us.
When we reached the chain link fence, someone opened it so hard that it pressed a zombie against the concrete wall of the tower and squished it through the chain links, turning it into spaghetti sauce. There was a point when it looked like Carla’s zombie would suffer the same fate, and I was glad that she did not.
At the top of the tower we met the creator of the sitcom. I asked him why he had to insert so much feminism into the show, since I feel that comedy suffers when it is done in service to a political or ideological agenda. He told me I could just watch something else and implied I must be a bad person who hates women or something. What a cunt.
So later on I’m in the city. I live in a condo several floors up and have constructed a secret area behind a sliding bookshelf in which I can live indefinitely if the zombie apocalypse happens. It is soundproofed and contains dry rations to last years, and has windows looking out at the city so I can see what’s going on. While hiding from the apocalypse I get bored and decide it’s better to die on my feet than live holed up in safety like a coward, and I set out to escape the city.
I have some sort of flying device that I didn’t get a full look at – it’s about the size of a person and it hovers without the need for propellers and jets, and I just sort of lie on top of it. But it can’t fly away because in the (fenced off) yard behind my condo building there is a network of charging stations for helicopter drones. The drones have vents that can shoot fire upwards (odd design choice) at any aircraft, and are programmed to do so. I have to disable them, and what follows is a sort of minigame where my hovering thing moves in a set pattern around each charging station, and I have to reach out and hit the off button on the station’s controls to disable the drones. To further complicate things, the control buttons were in different positions for each one, and some were on a sort of rotating panel that would make it difficult to press.
Having a limited amount of time to reach out and press them as I passed by, I missed a few. I soon realized that it would be simply much easier to get off the thing and do this on foot, which I did. But then I suddenly got bored and wandered down the path to the yard’s exit to the street, where I was accosted by a zombie dressed as a robber.
I have been playing a lot of Dead Island, and as a consequence my dream last night had slightly more zombie content than usual.