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@Catwing, I must second Karthmin. I have to disagree with you on not having a vivid imagination – you just focus on the broad strokes.

@karthmin, The strangest dream which I can recall was one which involved a good friend of mine that I roomed with in college, a real tubby guy, my height (short) but three times my weight, shaved head but a real innocent looking face.

For some reason, he was in some kind of Russian supermax prison and he was being interviewed by a blonde Russian reporter lady who resembled Natalia Poklonskaya (Ukrainian), and he was completely wrapped up in chains and manacles. Including his ears. I don’t know why, but they handcuffed his ears.

At some point in the interview, he just produced a key out of his belly folds and started letting himself out of his restraints while the reporter tried to inform him that escape was impossible. Meanwhile in the background through a cell door, I saw security guard jump off the railing on the second level of a cell block wearing only boxers, tucking and rolling in mid-air to belly flop on the concrete. Then, as my good friend began climbing into the ceiling vent (he must have had some Santa Claus magic to fit), the security guard was rolling around on the floor trying to put his pants on so he could rush into the cell and stop him from escaping (he was unsuccessful).

Then I was following my friend around as he fled, but then he somehow got lost in a circular bathroom, like the ones in the airport where two entrances both lead to two halves of the same bathroom.

Then he was transferred to some American prison, where he conspired to escape in the cafeteria. I think by this point I was also imprisoned, though I wasn’t sure why. Crime of association with this legendary houdini? A plan arose to escape via the cafeteria. Not quite clear on the details of the plan, but in the dream we agreed to psychologically manipulate a guard to order Cookout (a popular burger / fried chicken / milkshake chain in North Carolina).

He talked a good game with the guard and another prisoner (not in on the plan), got him and prisoner extra reminiscing on the virtues of chicken for several minutes.

Then he just gave my friend a chicken. A live chicken. His name was Stu.

And then the guard laughed and walked away, saying not to worry, he would get plenty of fiber once they got him settled in.

Then it fast-forwarded a couple years. Saw it on the title card.

He turned all his weight into muscle (except his neck and head which remained mysteriously fat), gained a foot in height and became the prison basketball star (don’t ask me if that’s realistic or not).

Then one of his teammates somehow bodily lifted him up and jammed him through the basketball hoop and ran around the court chanting.

THEN there was an old granny who worked at the Subway in the prison Walmart.

Don’t ask me why Subway opened a chain in prison.

Or Walmart.

Anyways, she was playing on the prison basketball team as well. (She was not a prisoner)

And she would kick players in the shin until they gave her the ball, which she would dribble all the way to the basket in her walker.

The dream ended unceremoniously with getting dunked on by a prison cafeteria lady version of Martha Stewart.