Summary: Changed around the ending to a dream I had, although everybody mentioned in this poem was present. If for some really weird reason you want to read about the original dream, you can read a retelling of it via AIM here.
Don't say I didn't warn you, though. xDDDD
I was clad in raven-colored leather,
Tight around my figure so that
It creaked like an old door whenever I moved.
A woman in similar garb stood before me,
Fire alight in her face as she held the gun to me.
Fear was thick in my throat,
Like a woman screaming as she hid in the bedroom
And the storm roared above her.
But I told the leather-clad woman that she would not harm me,
And she smiled like the cat eager to share its riddle,
Amusement and sadism swept across its lips.
An old television chef was my savior.
His speech nonsensical,
The pan a weapon as he swung it around
Fresh, scalding grease soaring in droplets everywhere.
My foe’s screams pierced the room
And she left abruptly.
I turned to the man who had risked his life for mine
And uttered a grateful thanks.
He turned to me and waved the pan above his head,
His plastic eyes staring into mine:
“Bork bork bork bork.”