Question: I was running through the hallways of my old kindergarten. Chasing me were about a dozen masked people, roughly the size of toddlers and all wielding pitchforks. Although I was a lot taller than these people, I was unable to outpace them, and I saw a dead end up ahead. Reaching into the bag that had magically appeared in my hand, I pulled out a Koopa shell (yeah, like the ones in Mario games) and chucked it behind me. The shell tripped up the first row of pursuers, but the second was quick in coming. Out of nowhere, the barb of a hook stuck in my T-shirt and I was pulled to the safety of a second-story balcony. Turns out that my best friend was a masterful fisherman, even though I got kind of mad at him for ripping my T-shirt. Luckily there was a bathrobe on the balcony, and I put that on as I leaned over the banister to scope out the situation below. The masked dwarves were frantically stacking Rubik’s Cubes, and soon they had constructed a pyramidal fort level with the balcony. While they were getting ready to heave their pitchforks at us, my friend and I loaded water guns with vegetable soup, our only ammunition. A battle erupted as we took care in spraying every dwarf with scalding-hot vegetable soup right before he was about to throw his pitchfork. It seemed like an endless pastime until my best friend yelled, “Oh damn! There’s a piece of chicken stuck in my water gun!”
Remembering that this was a vegetable soup, I started to realize that a lot of the things going on around me didn’t make a whole lot of sense. The fact that my kindergarten is about 6,000 miles away from Stanford drove the nail into the coffin of that dream; I woke up amazed at the fact that I was able to incorporate a Koopa shell into a dream when I don’t even play videogames.
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