Revolver: Story Of A Dream.

OK, this crazy dream I had last night, and No, it’s not what you’re thinking.

I was back home for the holidays. My cousin, lets call him Idris, picked me up from the airport. On the was home, he was telling me all the crazy things he did while I was gone, from waiting tables, to being a lecturer, and for some weird reason, running arms. And  yes, by running arms, I mean selling weapons.

Cut to a movie theater. I was seated at the back with Idris when he drew something from his pocket. It was a huge, shiny, silver revolver, and according to him, worth $36,000. It was a gift, for me.

It’ isn’t my birthday, but what the hell, who’ll say no to a free $36,000 revolver right?

So I took it. It was heavier than I thought.

Cut to the road. I, and a guy, call him Ibrahim driving were driving, and a little ahead were Cops doing a search. For some reason, this douchebag Ibrahim forgot to tell me that all this time, I was a wanted man, till when I was just a few cars away from the cops. The story was that while in the theater, his brother, let’s just call him Yaro, saw me with the revolver, and the thing was, the gun was used to kill some important feller somewhere. So Yaro told me to the cops for the reward, which he won’t get till they confirmed that I actually had the gun.

So what do you do when you learn that you’re a wanted man and the cops are on your ass???

Exactly, cut to Somalia. I don’t know why Somalia, how I got there, or who I went there with, but whoever it was, he had connections.

Quite frankly, I don’t know if there are really any warlords in present day Somalia, but while there, I was at the palace of one, no two actually. I don’t know why there were two equally powerful rebel leaders living in the same palace… wait…. OMG! Was I having a gay dream?

Anyways, I was chilling smoking whatever with whoever I went to Somalia with and the two rebel leaders when I had the greatest idea ever:

Why don’t I just give these rebels the revolver? No one is gonna come to Somalia looking for the gun. But then this thing’s worth a lot, I should just sell it to them for a couple of diamonds? Are there diamonds in Somalia? But what if they don’t want to buy? I’d rather not get diamonds than go to Jail.

So I took the revolver, which was still in my pocket, and gave it to one of the Gaylords, I mean, Warlords. He looked at me suspicously, and asked why I’d give him such a prized possession. I told him I was a film Maker, and wanted to shoot on-location in Somalia  in six months and I wanted protection. The revolver was my thank you gift in advance.

Even then, I knew It was a lie. I wasn’t shooting any movie. Hell I didn’t even have a script ready.

What if they don’t see me in six months after they’ve set all the protection for me? Will they find me and kill me?

But he already bought the film story bullshit, so Bye Bye revolver… or is it?

I don’t know exactly how long it was after I left the palace that I got a call from someone who claimed to be the warlords’ secretary, telling me that the warlords were pissed cause I took away the gun I gave them.

What? The revolver is gone?

PUFF! And I’m back to Somalia again. I started asking questions, from which I learned that the asshole that threw me to the Cops in the first place, Yaro, snuck into the palace and took the revolver.

I guess this guy is really serious about getting his reward. How much was it again?

How he knew I was in Somalia, or how he got there himself, I didn’t know. But I didn’t care, cause the revolver was gone, and both the cops and the warlords were on my ass.

And better the cops than the warlords, if you know what I mean.

I was terrified!

Yaro, you sneaky son of a bitch, I’m gonna find you, and I’m gonna shoot you with my revolver…

To be continued…


2 Responses to “Revolver: Story Of A Dream.”

  1. 1 George May 25, 2008 at 11:37 pm

    could be a movie

  2. 2 spyda May 26, 2008 at 3:29 pm

    hahaha, yea… cud be.

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