I'm sitting in my philosophy
class, and as I look about the room, I discover that a friend of mine is there, with his girlfriend
. And what's more, he is clearly stoned out of his mind
. This strikes me as odd, because he knows damn well that his girlfriend seriously disapproves of mind-altering substances, in any form. But there he is, stupid grin
on his face, clearly not taking in anything that the professor is saying. Suddenly, he raises his hand, and then stands up to respond to something the professor just asked. When given permission to speak, however, he gets a very confused look on his face, chuckles at something, and then starts swaying
back and forth in a very strange manner. A few people chuckle, and I realize that on a much deeper
level, his motions might represent a subtle criticism
of the Greek philosopher
being discussed. The friend sits down, and shortly begins banging on his desk like it's a drumset
. Then the professor starts asking questions about our reading assignment, and when no one volunteers any answers, he turns to me. Just as I'm about to admit I didn't do the reading, the friend stands up and says (a little loudly) "Um, excuse me, sir, but I happen to now that --" After a short puse, he stands up, walks over to me, and asks "Hey, can I talk to you outside?"
As we leave the room, it occurs to me that we can go back inside the room, and be in a parallel universe version of the room, where no one will see us or hear us. We do exactly that, and find that we can see the effects that the other people's actions have on inanimate objects. For example, even though we're in a different part of space-time than the professor, we still see a piece of chalk writing stuff on the blackboard. Inside the room, we talk briefly, and then start looking around at things. There are a few tools on a table near the front of the room, so I pick up a wrench and start unscrewing a bolt stuck in the wall. Then I realize that everyone is back in the room (except my friend, who's still in the parallel universe), and they're all staring at me. Still unaware that I broke the first rule of existing in alternate dimensions (don't interact with inanimate objects, apparently), I try to figure out what happened, but then the room collapses.
I wake up (still in the dream) to find myself underground. I dig away at the dirt above me, and start stumbling upon dinosaur bones. Digging a little further, my hand strikes a large piece of metal. Through the hand-sized hole I've made in the dirt at the surface, I displace the metal, trying to get it out from over me. But it's a very large piece of metal, and after I've moved it several feet in each direction, it's still above me. "What the hell is this?" I wonder. Just then, I notice the number 85 in big red letters on the part I'm looking at. 85? Why, that's the number of the plane I was supposed to board! Good thing I made that room collapse, because otherwise I probably would have been killed in the plane crash. Still with one hand, I lift the plane up and toss it aside so I can get out of the ground.
Sometime later, I'm sitting on the ground near where I was buried, looking at the dinosaur models I've made from the bones that were buried down with me. They're outstanding models, and you can even see where one of the dinosaurs was biting into the side of another one when they both died. Of course, they're much smaller than real dinosaurs were -- about as big as a chihuahua -- but that didn't occur to me. They suddenly grow flesh, and started running around, then clawing and biting my leg. I realize that I'm Doctor Emmett Brown, and that my interest in dinosaurs will eventually lead me to build the very first time machine, which I'll use to go back in time, steal some dinosaur DNA, and reconstruct real dinosaurs from the bones that were buried in the ground not 3 hours ago. I decide that this is a bad idea (because I don't like them biting my leg), and the living dinosaurs instantly collapse into a pile of bones.