I was caught on a football field, sitting with a bunch of old friends and watching a marching band practice. Suddenly a few of their squad leaders were asking for fill-ins, just for fun, you know? So I got in line between two of their members and some of my friends jumped up as well and we managed to march with them,just be following along with their formations. It didn't last very long though; we had to leave. I guess we were all secret agents of a kind, and no one was really certain who was on whose side. All of us had really sweet cars though. In a high speed chase down the higway, we weaved dangerously and daringly in and out of traffic, shifting hard and shooting forward with a great explosion of speed. We arrived at a boy's house first; a rich boy who, for some strange reason, had those rope railings (the kind used in theatres) in his room. I forget where it led. He collected a few things and then we were at a girl's house. She had a railing in her room that was close to a shower and I think I made a joke about it. Then I was promptly informed that the girl was handicapped. I felt like an ass and, trying to over-come my err, told her a story of how I stepped out of the shower once, not realizing my little dog was lying against the tub and so I stepped on him and fell, reaching wildly for something to hold and ended up crashing to the floor in a screaming thud. So the railing really was a good idea. At any rate, she had an awesome car that was blue with orange details. Something happened then that caused us all to run. I leapt into a car--not even sure if it was my car--and began racing around the neighborhood; someone was following me. They finally stopped and I slapped a sticker over their liscence plate, then hopped in the car myself and we took off. I yelled at him (whoever he was) because he was driving so wrecklesly and fast that it was causing a scene and we didn't need a scene, we needed to disappear. He knocked over a chess game being played between two old Chinese men and I stopped to apologize, pretending to be foreign. Then we continued on, back in the car (I don't remember ever getting out, jut being out) and we raced off with flames and distruction behind us. Then the phone rang and that was the end. I hate telephones. People should know never to call when you're in the middle of a really awesome dream. Carrie