Okay, I'm at my childhood home except it's present day and it's somehow my house now. My mom and my sister Dina and I are discussing arrangements to take care of my cats because I'm going somewhere for work or something.
There are somebody's kids running around interrupting that they don't like the front door - they want to come in another door while I'm gone. I try to explain that only some of the doors are designated as "entry doors" by my alarm system and any other doors being opened cause the alarm to go off immediately. The problem is that I cannot remember which doors, besides the front one, are designated as entry doors.
While I'm trying to recall my security schematics Dina is harping on and on about something coming up on TV that needs to be tivoed. She doesn't remember which channel for sure and I say that I think it's channel 25. She reads something that indicates that 25 is the wrong channel. This is apparently the closest that Dina's ever come to proving me wrong about anything in about a gazillion years so she starts gloating and rubbing it in. She even called me "Dumbass McStupid" at one point.
To get away from the gloating, and the screaming kids, I decide to take off for Lanesville. I start walking towards my grandmother's old house because for some reason that's where my truck is parked. As I leave my house I ponder the fact that there's a pretty nice deck and wheelchair ramp in front now.
Dina tries to follow me so she can keep taunting me, but I shuffle my feet on the driveway and pretend that it makes so much noise that I can't hear her and, eventually, I leave her behind.
Now, once I get to my grandmother's old house I for some reason decide to take my grandfather's old Plymouth something or other instead of my truck. The car's a complete piece of shit but I've been driving it every now and then. With my grandfather dead I figure that somebody should make use of the car. It might be a piece of shit, but it's a classic piece of shit.
One of the many things wrong with this car is that it's got baloney rinds for tires so it can't make it out of the driveway. The tires just spin in the loose gravel and walnut husks. While I'm trying to get enough speed built up to get out of the driveway my uncle Carl pulls up and I remember that he's been driving the car as well, and he kind of thinks of it as his own. I manage to put the car back into its parking place which is tough because the car has no brakes either.
What Carl is doing there is having somebody install this bright red girder about 15 feet up between two telephone poles. One of the guys has a very large hand tool that seems especially designed for this purpose - it allowed him to tighten the bolts at both ends of the girder at the same time.
My uncle Ron is there and he starts complaining about the cost of putting the giant red girder between the telephone poles, but Carl assures Ron that he'll take care of the costs himself.
So I get in my truck and turn right out of the driveway. I realize that I'm very thirsty and decide to stop at Polly's for a soda. There's something wrong with my headlights and while I'm adjusting them I see that the people who own Polly's have cut down all of their trees. This, plus fiddling with my lights, manages to distract me enough that I drive through Paul and Donna's front yard to get to Polly's.
I pull into a parking spot and Paul comes running out. He's just livid that somebody just drove though his yard, and he's beyond livid when he sees that it was me. This guy has spent millions of dollars putting up fences, signs, and sniper towers to keep Polly's customers off his property and then I, who should know better, drive my fucking truck across his front yard.
I don't blame Paul for being so angry. He tells me to leave and not come back until next Summer. I think that I'm lucky he didn't ban me for life. I try to explain that it was just an accident, but Paul is in such a rage of screaming and flailing about that I don't think he's even listening to me. I become afraid that Paul's going to have a heart attack or something he's so mad. Donna comes running out of the store to see what's wrong and Paul manages to sputter out what I've done. I tell Donna one last time that it was an accident and that I hope Paul calms down, then I leave.
As I'm leaving Polly's lot, I notice that it's closed and somebody has busted all of the windows out of the front like they're doing a massive remodeling project or something.
Then I wake up.