It would be fair to say, that the only thing in life, short of first dates, that really truly scares me, are my very own dreams. I've always tried to understand it, but who knows better than yourself, what scares you the most.

I was playing on my computer, when I hear scuffling behind me, thinking it was my cat, I ignored it. When the scuffling tunred into footsteps, I got nervous. I turned around, to see this pair of shoes, walking across my carpet, accompanied by maniacal laughter. I was petrified. So fucking scared, that I ran to my gun cabinet, pulled out my shotgun, and started pluggin' the shoes. When I ran out of shells, I grabbed the shoes, and threw them out my front door.

Everything was ok, for now. I went over to anm and his wife's house, to tell them about what happened. We then all went over to my house. The four of us, I do not remember who the fourth person was, were watching TV in the guest room I heard a sound in the laundry room, so I went to check it out. When I got in there, there was this evil black figure crouching in a spiderman position on my washing machine. It said to me, "You took my shoes." It lept upon me and started ripping me apart.

I woke up with JarJar nibbling on my ears, I was drenched in sweat, and an hour late for work.