I had a strange dream last night.
What I think happened (it's often difficult to piece together the logic in many of my dreams) is that there was some sort of zombie apocalypse, but some twisted person thought it would be lucrative to make a game show out of it. I and eleven others had to get through an underground series of tunnels and rooms. Interestingly some tunnels and rooms were bare rock, and others were completely finished, as though they were inside some classy old house. Other contestants would be placed strategically in certain areas to hide and frighten and kill the rest of us. So we had zombies to deal with, as well as sick individuals that would kill for money. We were unarmed and were trying to quickly make our way through the labyrinth to get to a room with a door that was sturdy, and could be locked. We entered a wide open hall, lit by weak gymnasium lights. As I walked past a pillar, someone popped in behind me and fired up a chainsaw and started to saw into me where my neck meets my shoulder. It didn't hurt, but it could definitely feel the force downward on me. I dropped, and jolted out of the way. He was grimy, and was dressed in filthy overalls with matted black hair. He was a new contestant. He came at me again, and lunged with the chainsaw, but I grabbed his arms. He shifted in such a way that he was able to nick away at both of my forearms. Again, there was no pain, just blood. I shifted my weight and he fell down. I grabbed the chainsaw, and while he was on the ground holding his arms up for protection, I sawed his arms off just below the elbow. Another player bandaged him up while I kept on, looking for a decent room. It was our understanding that the dominant player would get the safe room for the night. We found it shortly after, and it was decided that I would get the room. I was the dominant player at the time, likely because I was the only one with a chainsaw and obviously wasn't afraid to use it. We all entered the room together. It was a dank, but clean room that resembled a 70's motel room. There was wood paneling on all the walls, a hide-a-bed with white sheets and a tan colored, itchy looking blanket and maroon shag carpet. The doors were painted white, apparently many times, as they were very glossy, and I could see imperfections and drips painted over many times. I told everyone to leave the room and when they did, I checked every closet, kitchenette cupboard, and door, to make sure there wasn't anyone else hiding in that room, and that all the doors were locked and secure. Then I sat down on the bed and put down the chainsaw, exhausted.
Then I woke up.
I can't wait for hockey season to really get going.