Sootawf

I am in a sort of kebab house formed of several interconnected spaces, all somewhat plain and drab, simple painted concrete wall finish everywhere and double door sized openings in between. I immediately discount one outlet as being 'Polish crap' before moving on through to another space. (Is the shop called 'Mason Cross' or 'MA' for short?)-

The floor here, a rubbery black vinyl, is covered in patches/splotches of 'surface matter' that could be excrement but could just as well be mistaken for kebab meat – I say as much to my black companion and he laughs. Less amused is the wild, skinny Thai fellow (with a shock of jet black shaggy hair, his neat features clustered into a small but expressive face centred in his overlarge head). He threatens me with a tiny scalpel blade that he has pinched between thumb and forefinger. He orders me to leave the ante-room now! He's replaced by a much heavier looking fellow who sports rubbery, Grecian features. He too threatens me with a scalpel before, in a lightning fast movement, he launches a machete at me that he had concealed in his belt. The blade misses me and lodges in the wall. Looking at the sturdy fellow again it seems he was too fast for his own good – he has (somehow managed to) cleanly cut his right arm off just above the elbow in his act of throwing. The dreamescape cuts to a close-up of his face as my (admittedly quite small) fists clatter off it in slow motion, first from one side then the other-