I don't pretend to understand them.
Several other trucks of different colors chased us all around the complex, we went through a series of jumps and did some impossible aeronautical maneuvers to avoid the pursuit, but they persisted and eventually we crashed into one of them. No one was hurt, but then a big brawl started between the occupants of the two trucks. Like most of my dreams where stuff like this happens, the fighting was violent in the extreme. People were impaling each other with metal struts, rubbing broken glass in people's faces, biting people's fingers and flesh off, getting intolerably bloody, slipping in the gore and whamming their heads on the metal sides of the trucks, losing eyes, yelling, shouting...
Anyhow, that ended and after another segment I can't remember (involving Sarah (from the cafateria at Cabrillo) and the UCSC campus), I was watcing another 'movie'... Worf, from ST:TNG, was in a gigantic cylindrical chamber buried upright miles underground. It was pitch black inside, and he was holding a space-age lantern and walking out along a bridge composed of pulsing pink flesh. He approached the center of the cylinder and met the keeper of the place- a demon creature about his size, sitting on the misshapen head of the immense fleshy pile wharf was also standing on. The head resembled a cross between a maggot, a fly, and a sea otter. It had six or seven fly-like legs, about a thousand feet long, poking out near its head. Worf had been walking up it's forearm, which was attached to the wall near the door to the cylinder. The demon was linked to the mind of the fly creature, and was making it do a service for someone- duplicating, in it's fleshy labyrinth, a huge gemstone. However, Worf interrupted his concentration and he caused the creature to secrete the original stone out one of its legs, whereupon it fell into the blackness and started bouncing off odd organs and limbs, getting thoroughly lost in the innards of the creature.
The demon was annoyed at Worf, and told him it was his duty, since he had shown up unannounced, to go find the original gemstone. The demon knew in his mind that Worf would probably die or go insane down there looking for it, but didn't much care because he was miffed in general at people who came asking him for favors. So Worf would die, and the person asking for a copy of the stone would get nothing, which was fine as far as he cared.
Worf (who was starting to look like Sylvester Stallone with horns) decided to think the task over and began heading back along the fleshy limb. But before he got far, reality fuzzed and he was standing in about eight inches of water on the holodeck of the enterprise, still holding the lantern. He strolled out of the room. I then became more than an observer:
I was sitting in the water, looking at the stuff on the floor of the holodeck under the water. The captain came in, and Lt.Cmdr Data. The floor, I told them, was festooned with gemstones and guitar picks of all different types. I began collecting the guitar picks becaue they were cool, and I picked up a gemstone and bit on it, and it crunched into glass. The captain and Data tried throwing the gems against the holodeck wall, and sure enough they were all fake glass. The guitar picks were nice though. I had a problem: My mouth was full of glass. So I leaned over to rinse my mouth out in the water, and I couldn't get any in my mouth. Eventually I dunked my whole head in and maganed to rinse out some of the glass. Then I woke up, with my mouth in the same position as it was in the dream, very dry and drooling out one side.
Wheeeeeeee! That was worth five minutes, aye?