In my dream, I was in a city of some kind. I was sick, some kind of virus. I decided to go to dinner alone, at a nice-looking Italian restaurant. The atmosphere was great, the food was delicious. Dirty Harry was there too, and he was black. In this dream, Dirty Harry resembled Rudy Ray Moore. He also spoke like him. That's pretty much where the similarities ended though, because he shot like Dirty Harry. Something was awry at the restaurant, and Harry was angry. He was pretty much shooting every mother fucker in sight. I was ducking behind booths and shit, wondering if he had seen me. He kept looking in my direction, but I managed to survive while most others had died. The whole time I was wondering, "why isn't someone doing something about this?"
The next day, tired and confused, I turned on the news. There was a special on Dirty Harry on CNN, and when and how his reign of terror might possibly end. The baseball stadium federation voted to try to do whatever they could to appease Dirty Harry, because traditional weaponry wouldn't work, since he was unkillable. Apparently on one of his adventures he got some kind of Egyptian curse placed on him. The baseball stadium megascreen showed a big picture of Harry with his family. His skin was all grey and shit. Looked terrible.
He had the world in the palm of his hand, but he was the angriest man anywhere, alive or dead...
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