You guys (Darto) were on tour and were gonna stay with me at this giant house that I lived in. You had a weird roadie with Manson eyes and a John Waters moustache. He immediately gave me the creeps. I asked you, "What happened to Keith, or Scott?" You exclaimed, "They couldn't hack it, we left Scott in Texas, but he seemed okay about it."
The creepy roadie threw me the keys to your van and asked me to back in into the driveway. I was confused to why he wanted me to do it, but I went for it anyway. I put in the keys and the van revved super high and just peeled out. Going backwards. I couldn't make it stop. The brakes were out. I put it in park and that still didn't work. I was just bashing into cars, scraping the sides, just doing huge damage. Nick was in shotgun and didn't seem to be too bothered. I was freaking out though. We finally crashed into a wall and the car stopped. I look back into the van and there are broken guitars everywhere. It was like a guitar shop exploded. There were strings and necks and frets and nuts and bolts all over the van walls. You glumly started picking up the pieces but basically seemed nonplussed. No one was speaking. The roadie guy however was giving me a death stare.
I was freaking out and apologizing, but I was kinda pissed too. What kind of fucked up van is this? Why did I have to drive it? Why was the roadie looking at me like that?
The scene switches to a different street, my neighbors were coming up asking what the hell happened to their cars and why they were all smashed up. I said that my friends were on tour and their van was broken and that I was very sorry about their smashed up cars. They were really nice and said that they were in Gastr Del Sol (that's a pretty rad band I like) and they knew how hard touring can be. I was relieved that they weren't too pissed about their cars.
Now, it was time to really park the van. You and Nick were in the front talking and backing the van up and I was behind sort of directing you. There was a pickup truck behind me and so it was gonna be a tight fit. Whoever was driving wasn't really paying attention to my directions. The van kept creeping slowly back and started getting really close to the pickup truck. I was trying to get out of the way but couldn't. I was yelling at you guys to stop but no one could hear me. The roadie popped up into the back van window and stared at me. The van then pinned me against the truck and started to crush me. I yell, "you're fucking killing me!"
The roadie puts a finger to his lips and says, "Shhhh." Then I wake up.