I was reading a blackberry smartphone device. The screen was in a state of fairly constant flux, but at one point it said very stably "2001". Somehow I managed to start talking to it and getting answers back. A guy poked out of the ceiling to address me.
He looked like the actor who plays the Oompah Loompahs in the remake of Charlie and the Chocolate factory:
...whose stage name is "Deep Roy".
guy: "If you're ready to not panic this time, we'll be working with you again soon."
We had a strange conversation that I don't remember very well, but I felt he was being very patient and trying hard not to disturb me with his motions.
I lost my lucidity and found myself in a factory where people were held as slaves. The factory was being inspected, and I discovered the people in control had hidden themselves inside of a box in order to not be caught. Rather than expose their location, I got the idea of permanently sealing them inside the box.
man: (shouting) "They'll die in there."
me: (shouting back) "Yep, that's the point."
man: (shouting) "You can't do that!"
me: "Well...hold on. I guess I don't really know what's going on here. Who am I?"
I tried to fish a my wallet out of my pocket, but there wasn't one. So I started a discussion, and the room began looking less like a factory and more like a coffee shop. There was a television nearby.
me: "Has the time before television been explained to you in any way? Does your history have the idea of Native Americans who had only primitive tools...the Pilgrims...Thanksgiving?"
They kind of looked confused. Someone grabbed me and began pinching my side.
me: (pleading) "Please don't attack me like that, it will wake me up."
The attack stopped, and I tried rattling off details about my life. This caused some official-looking people to arrive in the room with a very complex apparatus. It had cameras and needles and looked a bit scary. But they handled me gently and so I wasn't too worried.
They did some unusual things, like extracting fluid from my noise, and injecting the bottom of my mouth between my lower middle teeth. The nose thing actually felt good. It wasn't physically disruptive, and they listened as I continued to talk about the world as I know it.
official: (to another official) "But he's not gay."
me: "Um, no, 'he' is not. Well, I'm not gay, which is to say I do not prefer the romantic company of my own gender. If you've read otherwise, then it may relate to identity theft of some kind...I'm always worrying about conspiracies like that."
I woke up actually feeling better, like their machine had fixed something.
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