I’m sneaking into a house. It looks like a family lives here. No one’s home, so I’m pretty comfortable. I get to the 2nd floor and there’s a bedroom. I go inside and it looks like a teenager lives there. The bed looks like there’s something under the sheets.
I yank back the sheets and I discover piles and piles of t-shirts. Jackpot. In my head, I know that I’m here to steal these t-shirts. They all have a logo emblazoned on the front: Tartan Soul. Tartan Soul is a campaign that I work on at UCR (http://www.tartansoul.ucr.edu). I begin putting all these t-shirts into bags and throwing them out the window to retrieve later.
But then a car pulls into the driveway. They will surely notice that all the shirts are gone, so I start throwing other stuff under the sheets to make it look like nothing was taken. Footsteps are coming up the stairs.
I run and I jump out the window and land in the grass. I lay perfectly still. I see a shadow from the 2nd floor, looking out over the lawn. It’s dark. They don’t see me.
Cut to this underground sewer system. I’m carrying the shirts over my shoulder. I pass a mirror and I look and it looks nothing like me. In my head, I know that I got surgery to look like one of the biggest Tartan Soul smugglers in the area. I know these shirts are worth bank.
I drop off the shirts and I meet with this little weasel of a character. He gives me some lip and I know that I have to act like this thug that I now look like. So I headbutt this little guy and start a brawl. I escape and now I’m looking for a certain thief that wants info I have.
I meet this guy in a dark corner. He wants to know what other Tartan Soul materials are worth money. I give him a tip. Each first-year at UCR is given a lapel pin with the Tartan Soul logo on it. The back of the pin, which holds it together, is made of a rare metal that is worth a lot of money. I follow the thief to a room where they keep the lapel pins. He orders his men to start removing the backs and bagging them up.
He then turns and asks me a question. A question I don’t know. I hesitate. He knows that it’s me. I start to run. I wake up.