Dreams are made of this.

I hate our neighbor's kid. I hate him so much that I dreamed about him last night. I guess that's who the kid was in my dream anyway. Why else would I dream of killing an obnoxious teenager, chopping him into little pieces, and feeling REEEAL good about it?

Here's as much of the dream as I can recall:

I was on a fishing trip with Tom Hanks and some other guy (I think it was Gary Sinise). We found a good spot, next to a river and set up camp. Tom and Gary walked away, for some reason. While they were gone, a kid - who looked about the same age as my neighbor's kid - came out of nowhere and took my fishing pole! That was all the excuse I needed to pulverize the living daylights out of the kid until all that was left of him were two golf ball-sized lumps of goo. I rolled the two lumps of goo in newspaper. Then I kept adding more paper until I had a paper wad about the size of a volley ball! Next, I needed to decide how to dispose of the paper-wrapped remains. Should I toss it in the river where it could soak up water and sink to the bottom? But what if it just floated until someone retrieved it? That was too risky. Maybe I should just burn it. I was starting to build a fire when Tom and Gary returned. Tom saw the paper ball, picked it up and started tossing it in the air. I said, "Wait! Don't be messing around with that!" Tom said, "Why not? It's not going to kill anyone, is it?" I said, "Well, as a matter of fact, I already did." After I explained what happened, Tom and Gary insisted that I unwrap the entire ball of paper to see if we could revive the blobs of goo. So we did. But we couldn't. The goo was a goner. We decided it was time to leave. I re-rolled the goo in paper until I had another volleyball-sized wad. The dream ended as the three of us were getting on a bus. I had the paper ball under my arm. Tom was looking back over his shoulder to see if anyone was following us. The side of the bus read: GOO WITH GREYHOUND.
Pretty scary, eh?