If one can imagine the appearance of Mexican mimes, that one is far more creative than I. That is, until my latest dream.

As I stroll down the nameless street- busy with cars and SUVs rushing by. Save a rust-brown van. The contents of which could not be guessed in aeons.

It slowly crept shortly behind me. Conspicuously, yet not threateningly. I stopped and faced its headlights- a pseudo-staring contest. It returned the defiance by sliding its door wide open.

Out spilled a throng of pale-faced hispanic mutes. To my surprise, they did not stalk me, but simply stared back- blankly as though they were aliens awaiting me to take them to my leader. Then they sprang into action.

They chased me down the street, stopping only because I cunningly ducked into a side alley. They all rushed past like salmon waiting to spawn.

One of the mimes had guessed my trick, however. He slowly slinked into my hiding spot. I immediately spotted him and stumbled forward. What did he want? I knew that he could not grant me my request. I hesitated not, grabbing my pursuer by the throat- Mexican Mime: Death by Asphyxiation.

The remainder of my dream was spent outrunning the coppers and ducking from his henchmen. I awoke with the same guilt sloshing in my stomach as I originally felt after choking my first murder victim to death. A feeling that will stay with me for ages.