Dinfrit

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Guys driving about in out garden in a Ford Fiesta. Skidding about on the grass like crazy. Frightening. I was calling out to my father for help. He was sitting at my parent's bedroom window writing. I was in the garden-

Scene in some sort of cafe. The waitresses wore typical clothing, though a little low cut, comprising light blue shirt and a white apron. Sort of saucy 'Carry On...' style feature. One waitress pulled down her top and, with a saucy laugh, plopped her breasts out. Another woman sat topless and my attention, and hand, was focussed on her left nipple. My hand approached and tweaked the nipple revealing it to be a weird insect, a sort of butterfly-like colourful object-

It had blank, ink-like splotches interspersed with bright red and yellow colours. Needless to say this all got a huge laugh. I then proceeded into the rear of the cafe and through into the kitchen/staff area. There was a TV set on a cabinet in the corner and a waitress breastfeeding her baby. Bee from Presto supermarket was there too-

The waitress said something like, “How I manage to … and be a working mother today, I just don't know!” The middle part of this was the gag and again everyone laughed heartily. Bee looked at us and said something and laughed-

First day back at University in second year. Walking along to Unit 6. All the Unit temporary separating timber partitions had gone and everything was open plan. 'I Never Want An Easy Life If Me Or He Were Ever To Get There' by The Charlatans was playing on a stereo. Everyone was singing along. I got to Unit 6 and sat down next to my friend Jay Cee at the wall. We were all singing along-

Vemdin

In the loft at the Studio, aware that Jay Gee had somehow committed an act of murder. He'd shoved a Virgin Media representative down a brick shaft that had an opening into the loft area. I wasn't sure if the man was injured prior to this, but I sensed Jay wasn't concerned, remarking that he'd done this before to two others. The man was clearly dead and we heaped some black bin bags of rubbish and debris down on top of him. I kept running through the sequence of events in my mind, trying to think if I'd missed anything or if indeed the events had actually taken place-

Akzunnit

Bilwhuff

In Glasgow. Group of us waiting for a bus. The whole situation and the group seemed familiar. Bus fair exactly 62p. Martin Clunes, who was in front of me, did not have enough money for his fare. I tried to help him because I had loads of coppers and change. As the bus arrived he changed his mind and went off. I got on the bus and paid the exact fare and looked about. I recognised no one. The group had all gone. Everyone was a sort of slicked back Andy Garcia type and such. I was pretty embarrassed and headed for two free seats. I sat down. It felt as if someone was already sitting in at the window. I sat on a jacket crumpled up to my right. There was a bag or something under the chair. I kept catching my feet on the handle of this and could hear bottles clinking. At first I kept expecting to hear someone come back and claim the seat, some drunken old wino or something. The woman in the seats across from me was talking to two women who were sat in front of me. The one at the window was sitting, her chin resting on her folded arms, gazing out of the window. Her profile was reflected like so-

At first I thought she was a ginger haired freckled girl. She was, though, in fact fiery red haired and utterly gorgeous. She had on a blue, dark sequined dress with a deep plunging neckline to her waist. She looked amazing-

Ultid

Ell Arr taking me to see the abandoned block of flats where he lived. I gathered he'd been evicted from his apartment some 2 years previously but on some insistence had remained there. We wandered up to the fifth floor or so and he showed me how the lock on the front door had not been disabled and that the flick of a breadknife allowed him access. Once inside the flat he told me to hide, seemingly aware that the demolition contractors or the council or suchlike were on their way. I crouched down behind an obscured half-height shower screen in the bathroom, while he hid in behind the door at the sink. Unfortunately for us part of the front door, the metal flange surrounding the lock, seemed to vibrate consistently and noisily. Ell exited several times in an attempt to silence this source of frustration and a means of pinpointing our location. He had no success and before we knew it the bathroom was swarming with middle-aged business types, keen to read us the riot act with their spectacles. Ell encouraged me to take off the minute they entered the bathroom and I did not hesitate, barging my way through the crowd and racing out the front door. Ell was in hot pursuit and I remember the pair of us pelting down the stairwell, leaping over the bannisters, taking several steps at a time, in order to speed to our freedom-

Gluvobe

I am being pursued by my old schoolfriend Ay EmmCeeEll, the actress Yvonne Strahovski and the comedian Stephen Merchant. Do I see Ay Emm, I'm not sure? I know he is there, perhaps recognise his voice. They have chased me down a set of narrow corridors and stairwells and somehow, my having outwitted them, they are chasing me back up the same. No sense of any windows or natural light, seems lit by bright artificial office-y lighting. Flooring is a pale flecked vinyl surface with a perimeter trim and a light grey metal paint finish to the stair railings and handrails. Aware that the real world logic of distance and ability is somewhat skewed, actions often not corresponding to the sense of the restricted space-

They are one floor behind me - I can hear their voices. At each (dogleg) stair Stephen Merchant leans out into the narrow stair void and looks straight down towards the ground (seemingly to ascertain some sort of measurement for Ay EmmCeeEll). Every time he does this I lean out beyond the overlooking handrail and spit at him (which suggests we are in fact bunched quite close together). At this point, after a few misses, I manage to spit on target, landing a perfect wet glob right on the back of his neck. They are all disgusted by this, Stephen the most, putting his hand to the back of his neck-

Again, another jump/glitch in the real world logic of space, as I am now on the very top floor, the three of them audibly below me. Only there is no connecting stair between their floor and mine and no railing of any sort at the edge. I find (and dangle) a Tesco shopping trolley over the edge of the floor slab, threatening to drop it. Yvonne Strahovski is visible below, walking out from under the overhang, and stands still, looking up at me. Tense moment as I think I want to drop the trolley on her. She looks at me pleadingly and, as if we both don't want it to happen, I swing the trolley to give it momentum and, letting go, it misses her due to this, crashing into a (sort of) stairwell gap at her back. They are glad as they consider I have no more items at my disposal. And yet I find a small two wheeled shopping trolley (only the bag is not fabric but wrinkled light blue polythene bag-ish) which I know is full of AA batteries. Flash to my mind of a credit card. I accidentally rustle the bag and I can hear this is giving my pursuers pause for thought. I have a feeling I can light these countless batteries one by one, setting fire to them and dropping them onto the others below-

Outside in a car park at the building talking to Gary Oldman (in full 'Commissioner Gordon' mode) as he explains to me why all this is happening-