November 09, 2004

GTA: Calderdale and Kirklees / The Cult

So, I've just got GTA: San Andreas, and I've been playing it pretty much non-stop since the day of release beacuse it's such a bloody good game. As often happens, this has affected my dreams recently. (In fact, with San Andreas, if affected my dreams before it even came out: I wanted to play to so much that my subconscious made up what I thought it might be like and put me in it.)

Anyway, last night as I was drifting in and out of sleep I began a reality-based dream that took off from exactly where I my conscious mind left off. I begane to dream that Cresley, who was sitting up in bed next to me, started to eat toast and got crumbs everywhere.

I knwo this bit was a dream 'cos I woke up a bit and dozily asked Cres if she'd just been eating toast, which she obviously hadn't. I then sank back into the dream.

I was in my bedroom in Lockwood, and although the house was mine, it was "rendered" in the same way as the safe houses in GTA: SA, with the yellow markers on the door and everything. Cresley and I were getting ready to go up to Castle Hill for reasons that I can't recall now.

Anyway, we headed up to the church at the top of Scar Lane where there was some sort of fete going on. There was all the usual paraphenalia of a church fete: trestle tables with jams, etc, but the church was actually in use by a fringe christianity-based cult.

The church was open and the cult was trying to recruit members of the Lockwood and Newsome communities via the fete. Notably, there was a building adjoining the church strung with banners proclaiming offers of loans to those in financial difficulty who had poor credit history. The banners were done out in much the same way as those loan ads you see with Carols Vorderman or Smilie. The catch was, of course, that you had to join the cult to get the loan. Of course, jining the cult meant signing away most of your posessions and a massive tithe of your subsequent income to them.

Cresley and I decided to leave. On our way out we were stopped by a smart-looking fellow in a suit who bore a passing resemblance to Hugh Grant.

"Excuse me, I'd like to talk to you about joining our organisation," he began.

"Sorry, I'm not interested in religion." I replied.

"I think you misunderstand," said the suit "I represent UKIP."

"I'd rather join that fucking cult!" I retorted.

That's as much as I remember of that one.

Posted by Jonah at November 9, 2004 11:12 AM
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