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Welcome to The Dream Archive. I write all kinds of things and catalog them here. I hope you enjoy.


      Bill Funklecamp sat in an empty coffee shop sipping at his coffee and reading the newspaper. The doorbell chimed and a middleaged man entered. He glanced about for a moment before turning to Bill and smiling.

                "Bill! You son of a bitch," he said walking over. Bill looked up.

                "Jerry! You dog! How the hell are you!"

                Bill and Jerry shook hands as Jerry seated himself across from Bill.

                "Not very crowded in here, eh?" Jerry said. Bill sipped his coffee.

                "Nah, never really is, except for the mornings. After the initial rush it's a perfect little spot to relax."

                "Ah. Good. Is that the paper? Mind if I give it a glance?"

                Bill waved a hand. "Not at all."

                Jerry slid the paper across the table, causing Bill to yelp out in pain, clutching his hand.

                "Ah! Papercut!" he said, looking down at his torn skin.

                "Oh, sorry ‘bout that Bill."

                Bill stared intently at is finger as blood began to well up from the fresh cut. "Papercut," he breathed.

                "Y..Yeah. Sorry. You need a napkin?"

                Bill looked up at Jerry. "Don't be a fool, Jerry. Do you have a sword?"

                Jerry blinked. "I'm sorry?"

                Bill slammed a fist down on the table, knocking over his coffee. "A sword, DAMMIT Jerry!" The purveyor of the shop came shuffling out of the back. A hunched old man with a sprig of hair left on his head and stylish suspenders holding up his pants. He adjusted his glasses.

                "What's all the commotion Billy mah boy?"

                Billy shot to his feet while Jerry angrily tried to clean the coffee off his pants. "Cecil!" Bill yelled.

                Jerry threw up his hands. "What the hell are you doing, Bill? You lost your mind?"

                Bill ignored him, and held up his hand for Cecil to see. The old man's eyes went wide.

                "Papercut," Bill said.

                "Fuck me," Cecil said. "Do you have a sword?"

                Jerry pinched the bridge of his nose. "What the fuck is happening?" He asked as Billy shook his head. Cecil hobbled around the counter and began rummaging through boxes of napkins. "That friend of yours has fucked us Billy!" he yelled.

                Bill shook his head, holding his hand out in front of himself and watching the blood begin to drip.

                "Oh, did I?" Jerry said standing. "Well, I suppose I'll just fuck off then? That what this is Bill? Well, you could have just told me there was no chance of a deal before I came down here."

                "OH NO!" Bill yelled, reeling back.

                "What?" Jerry said from the door.

                "BLOOD DRAGON," Billy yelled.

                Jerry stood with his hand on the door, looking out the glass, expressionless. "Blood Dragon?" he asked.

                "BLOOD DRAGON!" Cecil yelled.

                Jerry sighed and turned around. "What the hell is going on Bill?"

                Before Jerry could get his answer, a blood dragon clawed its way out of Bill's finger, using the fresh wound like a passage to escape it's gory dimension. It oozed out of the cut and grew rapidly, knocking over chairs and tables as it roared and raked its claws on the floor.

                "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?" Jerry yelled as Bill wrapped his hand with a towel. The blood dragon turned and smashed a coffee maker with its growing tail.

                "A blood dragon, Jerry. GET DOWN!" The two men ducked as the dragon swiped at them. Jerry scrambled for the door, only to jump back as it burst into flame. The dragon roared and breathed fire again as the two men ran behind the counter.

                Jerry stammered and looked at Bill who was tieing his tie around his forehead. "You find it Cecil?" The old man popped up from a mound of boxes, brandishing a glowing sword.

                "Got it Billy! You kill that blood dragon! Kill it good! KILL IT! MAKE IT DIE!"

                Billy grasped the sword and stood on a chair. The dragon turned and growled at him. It's red scales dripping steaming blood onto the floor. Its mouth began to glow a dull orange of oncoming fire.

                Bill uttered a wordless cry and vaulted off the chair slashing down wildly at the mystical creature. It batted him out of the air with a powerful claw, but was rewarded with a deep gouge on its neck. The dragon roared as Bill rolled on the floor, seeming  to not feel the gashes on his side as he frontflipped over a table and buried the sword down to its hilt in the dragons head. He held on as the dragon bucked wildly, twirling this way and that, roaring and loosing fire all over. After a few moments, it shuddered and collapsed, and Bill dropped off the dragon in a heap. Cecil and Jerry ran over and helped Bill up and into a chair.

                "What the fuck was, how did, mother of fuck, Jesus, Bill are you alright?"

                Bill removed the tie from his fore head and mopped the sweat from his face. "Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine. So what'll you have?"

                "What? I, what'll I have? I don't fucking know, what about the dragon?"

                Cecil shuffled over and handed Bill a new cup of coffee. "Hm? It's dead. See? You want like an espresso?" Jerry opened his mouth to answer but was cut off as the wall behind them exploded. A man with a tie wrapped around his head came tumbling through. Bill and Jerry stood. The man looked to them.

                "Do you have a sword?"

                Bill nodded and wrenched the sword from the dragons skull. "Blood dragon?" Bill asked walking over to the man. He shook his head.

                "Stubbed Toe Krakken," he replied as a screech echoed through the building. The two men jumped through the hole in the wall. Jerry could hear yelling and what he assumed to be Krakken howls coming from beyond the broken wall. Cecil shuffled over to him.

                "Know what you'll be having sonny?"

                Jerry glanced down at the menu on the table then back at the old man. "Yeah, I'll take a hot chocolate." Cecil nodded and shuffled back behind the counter. After a few moments he returned with a hot chocolate, which Jerry accepted gratefully. He sipped at the beverage and picked up a newspaper off the floor. He sat and read for a moment, until he tried to flip the page and cut open his finger. His hot chocolate tumbled to the floor. He looked down at his hand, then up at Cecil who was staring at him from behind the counter.

                "BILLY!" Cecil shouted as Jerry sighed and folded the paper in his lap, as the blood dragon reared up from the floor and roared directly behind him.

                "This business lunch is fucked."


The Day That The World Broke Down