Last week the back of my face accidentally fashioned a crude effigy of A Clockwork Orange from the various filthy diseases left lying around on the roof of my inner neck. The malformed beast related to me a rambling vaguely reminiscent of a narrative structure, and it smelt a little like this:
I seemed to have acquired the role of Alex for the duration of this dream, as was made apparent by an all body white boiler suit and an obvious Malcolm McDowell style hair piece, possibly fashioned from soil
I had none of the infamous droog facial attire about my face, instead my position of authority was designated by uncommonly long legs, which were about 8 metres long from knee to ankle.
It occurred early on in the dream that I was arrested for animation. Animation, it transpired, and all things relating there to were very very illegal indeed in this backwards state. Thus I was imprisoned in a building not wholly dissimilar to the Blaenavon building of student decomposition.
Under the ever vigilant eye of Mr McKay off 'Porridge' I was places in a cell where in reality there is situated a loo. This cell, or more accurately cupboard, already contained six screaming eleven year old girls. they screamed not in the manner commonly associated with eleven year old girls, but in a banshee like manner which would unsettle the mind of even the widest of sailors. The children had clearly been screaming before the door was opened, and would continue screaming long after I eventually left. Perhaps they had been screaming since the very dawn of time. I imagine the dawn of time was a pretty alarming thing when it happened.
Anyway, I was placed in this cupboard on the third shelf with only an old mattress for comfort, the sort of mattress usually found discarded in alleyways. But only on television.
The cupboard was divided into personal sections by a number of small flannels crudely suspended from the ceiling by string. I was to spend two years in this cupboard.
Over this two-year period, which I lived out in realtime, I realised that the children weren't all perpetually screaming but in fact took it in turns with only five screaming at any one time while the sixth took a rest. This seemed very important at the time.
Finally my two years was up and the ever vigilant Mr McKay off 'porridge' opened the cupboard and let me out into the world on the understanding that I wouldn't be so tall in future.
Despite not having eaten in two years, my first act of freedom was to go around to my friend Keith's and watch some Anime. This of course resulted in my immediate rearrest. It was at this moment that I awoke to find the truth was far far more horrible.
The End
Speaking of 'A Clockwork Orange', you wouldn't believe the dubiousness of this piece of tie-in marketing!
