I had a dream last night that I was being held hostage in a hotel conference room by a certain Russian megalomaniac. The one with his hands where they don’t belong. You know the guy.

He was behaving like a mob boss. I suppose that’s really all these “world leaders” are, and what is a mob boss but a scared little boy who’s afraid of seeing his toys compared to those of the other scared little boys who are also peeing in the sandbox.

I told him something to that effect. I watched him pull out a handgun, fire five bullets into an old woman’s stomach. Her hair was dyed red and she wore too dark a shade of foundation. Hardly a reason to shoot an unarmed woman, if you ask me.

He turned the barrel on me. He shot me in my left hip. I watched it happen, felt myself jolt back from the shock. As I held my bleeding sacral, I asked him if he felt like a man.

I did not escape.