Moving in formation

1/26/11 Finally, after 4 days, some recall worth mentioning. I hope this means my <PERSON> is cured. <PERSON>, Redneck Style I am standing in a line in the middle of a field with my mother and some other people, facing a crazed farmer who is talking about the Arena Games that we are about to fight in. The girl beside me mentions "respawning at one-third power." Oh good, I think to myself sarcastically, That way we can suffer painful deaths all afternoon. The farmer introduces this enormous truck/tractor hybrid whose headlights resemble big angry eyes. The hood pops open and it is "tongue," a powerful bulldozer arm, tastes the air hungrily. "Meet Bulldozer, the tractor god!" the farmer thunders. <PERSON> picks the man up with his tongue and sits him in the control seat. "Here is a little demonstration on speed, for those of you who are thinking about running off." He drives around us in circles; it is clear that you will not be able to outrun the thing. Suddenly the games are starting, and zombies crawl up through the ground to double our problems. <PERSON> kills my mother almost immediately. Fear pulses through my veins as I face the monstrous vehicle, but I ignore it and leap over the hood, kicking the farmer in the head. He laughs at me, saying I watch too many zombie movies, then embeds a knife into my forehead. It does not hurt that badly, so I continue to kick him, trying to break his neck. The knife falls from my head to the ground behind us. Just as I am about to deal the finishing blow, one of the farmhands (or possibly one of the other challengers) picks up the fallen knife and stabs me in the side, digging the blade across my stomach. The pain is agonizing; blood pours from my mouth as I die. ((Despite the pain and everything, this was a really fun dream!))