I'm trapped in a video game. Seven Martian fighters--flying saucers--attack me and my friend who's driving us up a steep road winding through hills. The Martians are very fast and can go straight up--can come in far closer than a plane, since they can hop over hazards.

My turn to drive. I'm the fastest, most aggressive driver among us. The car's low on fuel. Not standard gas, not diesel. Water? No. The gas station has one pump for us. Fill up...

A saucer spots us. I leap into the driver's seat and floor it--zoom off with the Martian in hot pursuit.

Now we're on a cliff-edge. Martians can & do come up from the abyss to fire at us. I have our "gun"--just a squirt gun or plant sprayer [SLIP! wrote "prayer"] with an awkward purple trigger that's misleading about which way it sprays. I've repeatedly sprayed myself.

I know I've played this game before and lost; I want to do it right this time--whatever that means. I try unexpected moves--fire instantly, don't wait to be sure it's a Martian. But no matter what I do, things seem to work out the same--I shoot at saucers but either miss or just lack the firepower to hurt them. Pretty sure I hit some directly. The game seems rigged.

It goes on & on. I keep suspecting people are Martians and spraying them in the face--not that I see any effect beyond annoyance. I doubt myself, but then news comes the Martians had the spray analyzed and it's quite toxic to them. But wouldn't they lie? And it may poison us too. Could I have been spreading toxins all over without believing it cuz it's slow-acting? Skeptical. I hit myself often enough, and I'm still here. Does it do anything? Feel helpless.

NEXT DAY

Halloween. I visit my friends Oksana & Stanley. We watch The Simpsons--their Halloween special. Lisa Simpson has a nightmare--a version of the classic horror tale "The Monkey's Paw", where innocent wishes all go horribly wrong. Trying to defeat the curse, she wishes for world peace, and gets it. And as soon as we're disarmed and helpless, saucers invade and conquer Earth... with mere slingshots and clubs! Since we got nuthin'.

And I recognize Lisa's dream. My dream. On screen.

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