I give a talk on scorpions in a lecture hall. The presentation is based upon a paper I have written, which I have, but I am unprepared for the moment. I show a live scorpion to the audience and place it on the table with the paper, and it sits there as I stumble through my points. To cover myself, I keep referring to a video on scorpions, which said that “scorpions are more evolved than humans.” “Don’t you mean clams?” someone in the audience asks. “Clams have a large foot that they walk with,” I hastily reply.
Towards the end of the lecture, the scorpion disappears. I look under the table in front of me, and a few audience members come over to help. As they discuss a Christian-themed prank they’d just been to, the scorpion appears under pillows by the wall. It then scuttles to the opposite corner behind some stacked folded tables.
I then find myself entering a stadium after walking through a room that looks like a plush train station. A show begins in the stadium and I am the only one present to see the “world champion volleyball players” come out in well-formed rows before the competition begins. Walking back to the entrance I think about how I broke my leg playing volleyball.
I then walk around the stadium to see the competition begin. Players stand on a pedestal and try to spike the ball down without it being blocked. Other players are under them on a lower level trying to do the blocking. After getting to a certain level or score, the players then climb a huge ironing board to try to put the balls into a basket. They must do it a certain way, I observe, or the board will fall horizontally. I watch one board fall over and see the two players bend and contort to not get injured as the board crashes flat.