Sean Connery

2011-09-23

I had a couple of dreams tonight. I can't remember the first one at all, but I'm almost certain that it's less interesting than the second so I don't feel too bad about forgetting it. The second dream largely involved Sean Connery and lame kung-fu action.

It started out innocently enough. There I was, in a facsimile of our own Bentley Mall, walking around and observing the various stores. When I had made my way nearer the exit, who should come into the mall other than James Bond himself, Sean Connery? Everyone was suitably impressed, and he was hamming it up big time, waving his arms around, taking deep bows, blowing kisses, all that good stuff.

Here the dream cuts to another 'scene' of a person on a small, white motorcycle. The bike itself is not unlike the old Honda Dream that my father owned (still owns, maybe). The cyclist was racing up and down the length of the mall, executing minor stunts such as narrowly avoiding pedestrians, leaning steeply to one side during turns, etc. All in all, it wasn't terrible impressive but considering the context, I guess it was a bit of a spectacle all the same.

Pretty soon this guy noticed Sean Connery like the rest of us, and immediately stopped his bike, dismounted and offered the machine to him. Mr. Connery, being a bit of a showboat in this scenario, took the man up on his offer and hopped right onto the motorcycle, where he commenced imitating the easy stunts that were previously being shown off. However, due to his lack of skill with small, two-wheeled motor vehicles, our man Sean wasn't quite able to pull them off so successfully.

In addition to bumping into walls or door frames every here or there, there was a point at which Mr. Connery collided with a spectator, a young woman who was standing near a bench/fountain combo thing. He didn't knock her out or even hurt her very much, but rather drug her along the bench with one of his handlebars until he brought the bike to a stop.

After he dismounted the bike, he was genuinely concerned about whether or not he had injured the woman. He crowded over her, checking her pulse, tugging at limbs etc. until she at last relented that she wasn't hurt at all. He continued playing around with her though, caressing her more than a little bit and kissing her up and down the side of her neck until he decided, at length, to stop making out with this stranger and continue showing off on the motorcycle.

The man who this lady was with didn't look very happy at this turn of events, but what was he gonna do? Start shit with Sean Connery? I sympathised with him, but there wasn't much I could do either.

But then, a man in a white shirt approached me. He described himself as another one of Sean Connery's victims, in that he too used to be engaged to a woman who couldn't help but succumb to Connery's Scottish charms. He'd met with a great number of other men in similar positions, and had been tracking Sean for some time in a quest for minor revenge. I'm not sure what drew this stranger to me; was it the pained looks of sympathy for that other man? Was it my burning thirst for justice, my desire to strike a blow against celebrities with a disproportionately heightened capability to steal hoes from the regular folk?

Whatever it was, this man reminded me that I too had a score to settle with Sean Connery. I can't recall what it was now, but in the dream I knew this man to be correct. It was decided: Sean was going to pay, and I would be an agent of his temporary inconvenience. The stranger and I locked arms and waited for Sean to make another round on the motorcycle, and when he finally came our way, we clothes-lined the son of a bitch right off his bike.

The crowd stood agog at what the two of us had just done, so thoroughly humiliating their hero. Mr. Connery climbed to his feet, brushed himself off and locked his eyes with mine. There was a look in them that told me there would be blood tonight. I shrugged, a "bring it, old man" look on my face. I glanced to my right but my white-shirted partner had fled the scene, nowhere to be found. Motherfucker.

Sean charged at me, but I was too quick.

... I should mention the lighting of the scene, now. The lights in this mall were weird, thin tubes of glass (or plexiglass or plastic or something) between two sconces, one upside-down and the other normal. They were all different neon colors and leant the mall a very futuristic vibe.

Anyway, I rushed to grab one of these light sources. It continued to glow even after being removed from its socket, causing it to look very much like a light-saber. Every attempt by Mr. Connery to grapple with me was rebuked by a vicious slash by my new weapon across his face, and by the time he'd wisely decided to procure a blunt instrument of his own he'd already collected a litany of scars and bruises.

The next few minutes of the dream are basically me and Sean Connery light-saber fighting with these neon-light things. Whenever one would break, it'd be a race to the next socket to grab another. Surprisingly I was doing much better than Mr. Connery during this struggle, even making use of broken 'sabers' as shorter faster weapons to poke and stab him with. I went Drizzt on his ass. The shorter halves of these tubes of light weren't as consistently lit as they were while whole, flickering on and off during the fight. Eventually he broke my weapon down to the point where I once again had no choice but to obtain another.

I ran across the mall to the nearest red light (I wanted a red one... what?) and was interrupted briefly in my journey by a woman dressed in a heavy black leather overcoat. She had no real expression on her face, and looked almost more robotic than human. She wasn't paying much attention to me, but did whip out a 'saber' of her own in my direction as I was attempting to make my way back to Sean (to continue kicking his fucking ass! Yeah!). I slapped her weapon aside and she seemed to think nothing of it, simply walking away and disappearing somewhere behind me.

Sean and I continued our fight for a little while, my victory coming surer and surer with every strike against him, when suddenly a row of elevators (that did not even exist until now) opened up and out poured about two-hundred mall security guards. I assume that's what they were. Half of them were the woman who'd interrupted me, and the other half were male counterparts. They were all dressed the same, and every one wielded a red 'saber'. I balked at the sight, and during my hesitation they charged, the Tron music playing as they began.

I waited no longer. With the two-hundred security guards, Sean Connery and now, suddenly, all of the spectators after my ass at top speed, I turned and ran. I threw my weapon at some random person as I fled, sprinting away from the mall and into the parking lot as fast as I could. And this is where the dream ends.