He takes off running, trying to touch it first, but the third me has a significant head start*. I know there's no way I'M going to get there first because I'm the oldest and the most lame and I smoked for too long, and Hattori Hanzo is spry, so I wish him luck because that's the kind of gracious winner I am. It is this kind of thinking that makes me a pleasure to know in real life. Besides I had to finish off the last of the dinosaurs who were acting as guards and wearing the Gamorrean Guard Hairdiaper things, and were totally badass, so I obviously can't be the fastest AND the strongest.
Now the reason I want Hattori Hanzo to be the first one to get the stick is that, the first one to get the stick will be teleported off this desolate wasteland and back to the safe bosom of Mother Earth, where obviously he will be treated like a hero for ending the horrific human rights violations going on at this miserable, dinosaur-run space jail. But the third me, who we'll call Darth Vader because he's a total dick, is getting closer and closer to the stick** and Hattori Hanzo better shake his ass if he wants to make it there first.
It's a close race, but Darth Vader wins and grabs the stick. Nothing happens.
Hattori Hanzo gets there and grabs the stick. Nothing happens.
I teleport over there*** and grab the stick. Nothing happens.
Darth Vader: The stick is broken.
Hattori Hanzo: What?!
Me: That is so effed up. I totally just had to beat up like infinity dinosaurs with axes to make this escape plan work.
Darth Vader: You do know this is a dream, right?.
Hattori Hanzo: Shut up! Don't ruin it for him, Darth! You're such a dick.
Me: I'm sleeping?
Darth Vader: Totally.
Me: No wonder those dinosaurs were so easy to beat up.
Hattori Hanzo: Why do you think YOU were the slow one with no chance of getting to the stick? Like... what's the significance of that?
Me: Oh shut up. I think I just should stop eating cold pizza so close to bed time.
Darth Vader: So what now?
Me: We wake up and write about this, because THAT'S reasonable at 2am.
Hattori Hanzo: You should totally Photoshop a dinosaur guard.
Me: Ooo! Yeah!
Darth Vader: So we're really waking up and doing this, huh?
Me: You should be called Dick Vader. DON'T STIFLE ME!!!
Hattori Hanzo: Seriously, Dick. Why are you even here?
Dick Vader: I represent his unrealized potential and omnipresent sense of defeatism.
Me: You represent "being a dick" mostly. HIGH FIVE!!
(*Hattori gives me a high five*)
* I don't know why I can't just make up other people in my dream and race them to the stick. Everyone has to be me. That probably is significant. I'll try and figure it out when I'm sober. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
**What kind of lousy dinosaur space-jail is this that keeps a teleporting stick in the middle of it? Must be a leftover from the Bush administration! Zing! High five!!! (*looks around and realizes he's still home alone and no one's gonna high five him, so screw you guys!*)
***If I had omnipotent teleport powers this whole time, why the hell am I losing races to the stick? Why am I even *in* space-jail? I think I was set up by the Yeti Hobo mafia maybe. I'll investigate this grave injustice in my next dream and get back to you.