Last night I had some digestion issues that required trips to the bathroom. Meanwhile, The Dog actually left the bed and went to the futon couch in the guest room more than once. At one point The Cat left too and I actually had the entire bed to myself for the first time in recent memory. Then The Dog came back and plunked his head on my lap while I was laying on my back and did not move so I wound up sleeping on my back without moving for most of the night--all of which, I'm sure, had a role in the first dream cycle of the night:
I had to get up to go to the bathroom. I was going to grab a magazine to read in the bathroom but first I had to move the throw pillow that was under my legs to get out of bed. The bathroom turned out to be a public restroom and there was some freak in there, just destroying one of the stalls--pissing all over, shitting all over, unspooling TP. "Fuck it, not my problem," I thought, but then I thought about how sick I was of shit (excuse the pun) like this, and opened the stall door to confront him. The guy was naked (he may have been wearing some kind of hat--a baseball cap?) and covered in shit and when I yelled at him, he confronted me in front of the sinks. At this point I realized I hadn't brought a magazine, I still had the pillow--only now it was one of my nice expensive pillows and it was out of its pillowcase. Freak noticed this too and started smiling because he was about to get piss and shit all my nice pillow. So I chucked the pillow into a sink and just started beating the fuck out of him. Left him laying in the middle of the floor.
Later, I needed to go to the bathroom again, but as I was getting to the door to my room (which opened onto a hotel/dorm-style hallway but was more of a sliding closet door with a cheap flimsy latch) I realized either the freak from earlier would be trying to find me or he'd still be laying in the middle of the bathroom. So I was making plans to maybe find a different bathroom when the door was open and 2 really sketchy ginger dudes wit odd facial hair, those Teddy Roosevelt style glasses, and again, odd hats, were at the door. In the adjacent room, behind one of them was a fat stupid looking guy (in a wheelchair?). I knew the gingers were about to shake me down and extort me and I was trying to decide if I could take them both or at least not get beaten up too bad if I got in the first shot--and if the fat stupid guy was on their side or mine (or just neutral).
I had another dream cycle towards morning, but I've forgotten that. OH! Hulk! I(?) was the Hulk and I needed to prep some road bank for someone to drive off it by smashing the concrete (or stone) guard. But every time I'd hit it, it would just bulge and ripple and billow like it was rubber and have no effect. This was particularly annoying because a different Hulk had just smashed it (how did it come back? I dunno) easily. I finally got annoyed and started ripping chunks of it off one piece at a time.