essentialsaltes | Geekiest Superbowl Dream Ever

The lovely yet not-very-posty

dark_of_night and I are at a Superbowl party. It's the pre-game yet, so I'm busy with a drink in my hand. Not sure what it is, but I apparently want more of it, as I can vividly see myself pouring more of it out from a pitcher, making sure that I get a few of the ice cubes in the pitcher into the glass (which entails a long, sloppy pour). There are other guests there, including

notjenschiz and

hagdirt, who has (natch) brought hors d'oeuvres. Or is it

colleency with the food? Or is it both? Or some dream-addled fusion of the two?
Some group of revellers heads out to bring back pizza or something similar. After they've been gone for a time, the game starts. Mercifully, I am spared any oneiric opening ceremonies and we go right to the action. There's either no kick-off, or I missed it.

First play from scrimmage:

The Colts have the ball, Peyton falls back deep into the pocket, looking left. He's got great protection, plenty of time to pick and choose. He winds up the laser rocket arm and ZZZZiiingg -- WAIT!!! Mr. and Mrs. America and all the ships at sea: THERE ARE JEDI ON THE FIELD! At least, two fans dressed as Jedi have evaded security and entered the field of play. Marvin Harrison and his defender, both playing the ball, have collided at full speed with the Jedi, knocking them to the turf. OH, THE HUMANITY! Pandemonium reigns. A cameraman storms the field, so we get closeups of the battered Jedi, completely unconscious near mid-field. A small, child-like figure dressed as Yoda with a huge immobile latex full-head mask dances in concern at the feet of the prone robe-clad figures.

Back at the party, the away team has returned, and we pull them to the TV for the instant replays. YOU'VE GOT TO SEE THIS! In slow motion, the cameras have captured the impact and the clouds of dust and grass-shreds that rise as the Jedi slide about ten yards across the turf after the collision - the flop of their boneless limbs clearly indicating that they are OUT. Prime comments that YouTube's servers are going to burn out tomorrow morning once the nerds hear about what happened. I agree, "This will bury the wardrobe malfunction."

As the dream begins to fade-out, someone inside a homemade droid costume is being interviewed somewhere in the stadium. The expressionless head has two flaps on it that waggle chaotically, unskillfully controlled by the person inside. The droid also emits unintelligible machine-noises in response to the questions of the reporter-on-the-field.