Small Car Dreams
Last night I had the most vivid dream. I had travelled to a large house with my son with the express purpose of him purchasing a Smart ForTwo car off the occupier.
We looked around the car and it seemed okay, so my son went inside to pay the guy the £350 asking price. I sat in the driver's seat and checked out the instrument panel, which was a cardboard box with a piece of paper that had been laser printed with a rev counter and speedometer stuck on the front.
I was about to flag it up to my son when I realised that underneath that printed instrument panel was a video screen that was showing the interior of the guy's house; all fake Roman columns and weird statues of various animals. A button under the screen allowed me to swap between shots from what must have been CCTV cameras in his house.
My son came out, brushed the pile of cherry blossom off the roof, got in the driver's seat and we drove off, only to be stopped by the police car that had appeared behind us. It turned out none of the rear lights were working and it was suddenly nighttime.
We opened the boot to find about a million wires and connectors - all unplugged - that we presumed were for the rear lights. There was no way of knowing what had become unplugged. Angered, I explained to the copper that we had just been duped by the guy in that house - he had sold us a complete lemon after all - and we required police assistance.
I pointed to the house and there was just a field where the house once stood.