Dreaming In Supernatural

So a few nights ago I had a very interersting, but also awesome dream. It was a mix of Supernatural, Legion, and also oddly enough pokemon. If you haven't seen Supernatural, but can also sit through horror movies I would highly recommend you check it out.

Commence Dream Sequence:

I'm driving down an abandoned superhighway in a black mustang. It seems to me that this must be some kind of post-apocalyptic wasteland and I see some figure out of the corner of my eye. I pull over, holding a shotgun loaded with rock salt and notice some kind of creature chowing down on the remains of some poor, helpless sap. As I pumped my double barrel in preperation to deal with what laid before me, I saw the creature's head twitch. From behind I hadn't been able to see what I had been dealing with, but as it turned it I clearly saw the face of my now undead ex-girlfriend with chunks of flesh and oozing bone marrow flowing between her teeth.

As soon as she saw me she charged with the intensity of a crackhead racing for a candy bar. As my ex had now become a full demon, body, mind, and soul (instead of the regular old bitch she used to be), I filled her up with rock salt once in the chest and then aimed high for the second. Apparently my dilligent hours spent watching Supernatural had not done the trick as I had only mildly slowed her down, but mostly just pissed her off. I broke off running in the other direction with the demonic bitch not far behind me. I instinctively wipped out my iPod and browsed my options and finally selected HM02: Fly. A bit painfully I might add, wings sprouted from my back with the same intensity as in Dogma and I took off just barely escaping the clutches of Marla: Demon Bitch.

After a few minutes of flying I spotted a Guns & Ammo shop and landed about 100 yards away (still needing time to hide the wings I had just sprouted.) I banged on the boarded up doors and windows and just as I looked back inside I had a rifle pointed at my head. "Drop your weapons or I'll shoot" muttered the hillbilly shopkeeper with bad hygiene. I hastily replied, "Look, I'm not the one you're going to need to worry about in a few minutes. I just need some shells and I'll be on my way." I saw him let his guard down and quickly took the rifle from his shaking arthritis ridden hands. "Motherfucker" he muttered. I set his rifle down on the counter and began to load up my shotgun with the shells I badly needed, when I felt the entire room shake. The door flew off it's hinges with the shopkeeper now pancaked to the back wall and Marla now standing in the doorway, ready for round 2.

Just as I had loaded the shells, the gun was knocked from my hands and flown across the room. I blocked the first few blows with the rifle I had borrowed with every intention of returning, but was no match for her unyielding attacks. I was almost subject to me heart being ripped from my body, literally this time, when a barrage of bullets dropped Marla like nobody's business. Sam stood in the doorway as Dean used the handy double tap philosopshy and pulled the trigger with his shotgun aimed at Marla's head. "What the hell was that?" asked Sam. "Demon." I quickly replied. "Son of a Bitch!" Dean exasperated.

The End

p.s. although a few minor details of this dream may have been glorified just a touch. This is, more or less, what I remember.