A woman with three musician guys walked right in to my house at night. Made themselves at home. Soon I announced: "For this to be a proper party, I must go buy some non-ginger ale alcohol."
So I went outside and got in my old pick-up truck. Went searching for a non-ginger ale alcohol store. I topped a hill and started down it. Then I realized this was a long hill tilting almost straight down. I stomped on the brakes as my truck went speeding down toward certain doom. Somehow, I slowed down enough and coasted to the bottom. But the next hill was also very long and also nearly straight up. I didn't have enough momentum or power to make it up this new hill.
So I got out of my vehicle and stood there pondering. Some indistinct person walked up behind me and said: "You better get going. Now! Small violent hogs are coming to get you. Run!"
I started quickly up the new hill on foot, and the hill turned into an institutional staircase. Indeed, small violent hogs were coming up behind me. I ran.
I made it upstairs to an indistinct hallway. I darted inside a room and closed the door. There were about 15 other hog refugees in this medium-sized room, which was like a classroom without desks. We mingled for a while, discussing in low tones our predicament.
The door flew open and in walked two blue-uniformed official people. Like prison guards or street police. They looked us up and down with derision, with arrogance. It was known without saying that we were somehow illegal and now under the tyranny of these two uniformed officials.
Then about six small violent hogs burst in through the open door and went after us. They snapped at our ankles viciously. Total chaos ensued. All of us, including the two Stasi guys, ran around in panicked circles or bounced off one another like pin balls.
I think I somehow escaped and survived. I can't remember if I made it back to my house with non-ginger ale alcohol.