Dreamscapes: The Heist

A scheme to free living intelligence

My brothers, mother and I are in a city. We enter a building owned by a middle-aged man. From the inside, it looks rather unremarkable, except for three interesting looking tanks in the middle of the floor. I realize in horror that each of the tanks has a live octopus in it, and that each octopus has two tentacles nailed in place on either side of the tanks, to keep them immobile for the display. Apparently, the owner charges people money to come see them in his rinky dink “science museum.” I am sickened.

I can hear the octopi wailing. It is a haunting sound, but when I ask the other people there if they can hear it, none of them say they can. I ask the crowd if anyone has a stethoscope, and elderly woman says, “I do.” I tell her, “Put the things in your ears and the pad on my heart and you will hear.” She complies. I begin to talk to the octopi, telling them, “I’m coming to rescue you!” and I still hear them wailing and I ask the woman if she can hear them, but then suddenly everyone can hear them. They are horrified.

I run to the owner and begin berating him. “This is inhumane! This is awful!” I yell. “These are some of the most intelligent creatures on this planet! This is like if you captured Einstein and nailed his hands to a display!” He tells me to piss off, and that he needs the revenue for his “museum.” My mother tells me to calm down. I leave, fuming.

And then shit starts to get real. I begin going down my list of people on my phone, and calling them up one by one, asking them “Hey, you wanna set some octopi free with me?” I am afraid they will all say no, but everyone is in. I have a “guy” for every need. One of my friends used to work at that museum, and they know all the security details and how to shut off the alarms and motion sensors. The tanks the octopi are being held in are specially pressurized, and I need someone with knowledge of that technology and access to the equipment necessary to properly depressurize the tanks. A married couple have both the knowledge and the equipment.

I go to the married couple’s house in the same city. Their house is basically a renovated railcar diner. I watch as they get the equipment all ready. They are both eating a delightful looking power breakfast of two raw eggs in a glass of orange juice. They give me one and I begin to chug it but quickly wuss out. I dump the rest down the sink.

The heist goes off, successfully, but in a blur that I cannot recall. The owner is furious, and I feel vindicated.

As a thank you gift for setting them free, one of the octopi slips a tentacle delicately up my leg, and then inside me. The feeling is earth-shattering. I am left, lying on the floor of the museum, wet and surrounded by broken glass, basking in the glow of the heist and my carnal encounter.