Alright, I've decided to tell the story of what happened on Sunday.When I awoke on that Sunday morning, I noticed something strange. Not a single soul was at my house. All the cars were there, so no one could have left. I wondered around until I found a strange note on the living room floor. It was blank, so I made a paper airplane out of it and let it sail across the room. Where the plane landed was a different story. Actually, it didn't land at all, someone had caught it. A tall man cloaked in a long black robe had his hand on it. Crushing it in his palm, he lifted a sword with his other hand. Seeing nothing else in front of me, I grabbed a carbon fiber pool stick from the rack it was stored on. The battle ensued.
Clashing back and forth, the man seemed to get the upper hand. But then remembering all my years of training with a bowstaff, I easily fended him off. He fell to the ground and I leapt up into the air. I came down upon him, thrusting my pool stick into his heart. A blank inky like substance erupted from the wound as I gave a victory commanche screech. All of the sudden, the Doobie Brother's "China Grove" began playing. A giant fog came forth as my eyes flew open. I was laying on my couch in my living room. I seemed I had fallen asleep during a football game I was watching and had a dream. Or was it a dream?
