Please. Don't press play.

Movie junkies have nightmares, too.

Where tobegin?Perhaps with what I assume is the beginning.

It started about five o'clock, last night.I think. It's hard to tell time where I am. Allow me to explain. I rented a movie at a Mom-and-Pop video store, around noon or so. It was a low-budget indie flick, named 'Trapped'. I thought it looked clever, and I sat down to watch.

Tape was blank,as best I could figure. Itwentthedurationofthemovie,Ithink.

I took it out, and sat down to watch the game. I'm a big football fan. Suddenly, things took a turn for the surreal.

I was suddenly in the middle of the game. Surrounded by uniforms I was all too familiar with. My living room was history; I was at the stadium, third down, first quarter, and the ball suddenly landed in my hands. I was tackled by both sides, and put [on a bench, after being checked out by a medic.

The pain was tolerable, to a degree. They gave me abottle of Gatorade , and I was benched for the remainder of the game. I wasn't wearing a uniform, but everyone acted as if I was. They looked at me like I was crazy.

Once the game was over, I found myself surrounded on all sides by Indians, riding horses, and shooting arrows at me, and the rest of the wagon train I was now a part of. I was apparently a soldier, in a Western. I saw John Wayne, who slapped me in the face for some reason.

I still had that bottle of Gatorade, though. Couldn't figure how I was switching worlds, and winding up in weirder and weirder situations.
After a while, I figured I was sucked into the TV. Someone was channel-surfing, and I was the surfer.

For a few hours, I went through another Western, where Kevin Kostner gave me a rifle, and then I was in some cheesy porn for a few minutes. The two girls I met did help me take me away from my problems for a few minutes, though.

I think that's when my roommate came home.

Tonight, he said he was going to watch the entire Night of the Living Dead series.

All three movies, plus the 1990 remake of the original.

For the love of God, watch Sex and the City, the Sopranos, or something. Anything but a horror movie marathon.

Please.

The rifle only has seven rounds.

Send supplies, go to QVC, anything, if you have to send me in.

Wait. The world's changing.

Oh shit.

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"Hey, guys. Oz is on."