dream: skinny weirdo zombies

Last night I had this funky dream. Okay, I quite nearly always have funky dreams. I used to always document them but I've stopped. I want to pick it back up again though, so here goes.

I was in the house I grew up in with Hans and my family. We were sitting on the couch, various blunt objects in our hands, awaiting the arrival of a zombie horde. The zombies were all bone-thin. In fact I don't think they were even anatomically correct. My dream must have added extra bones to achieve the level of skeletal creepiness these guys possessed. They'd arrive in small groups, and each group rang the doorbell. We'd march up to the door and open it to welcome our frighteningly thin guests, and beat their heads in (I was duel-wielding small baseball bats). Then we'd throw them in the basement where they still stood upright but we somehow knew they had been rendered useless and were no longer dangerous.

The shock came when we opened the door to a pair of our smiling neighbors, talking animatedly, but still clearly very much living corpses. Here my dream kindly flashes to a little explanatory scene which takes place in a mall. A girl is up high in a tiny elevator, which may or may not be part of a Space Needle replica, when a pair of the zombies below announce they know how to operate it and proceed to psychically force the girl to lower the lift down into the crowd of writhing corpses.

THEN IT FLASHES AGAIN, THIS TIME TO ALBUS DUMBLRDORE. Dumbledore is sitting in his study, writing a letter, apparently to me, and the dream kindly allows me to hear him narrate the letter as he writes it. He explains to me that if ever in life you taught a person how to do a thing--any thing, like ride a bike, use an oven, operate an elevator--then the person you taught, now a zombie, will be able to control you and by some psychic power, force you to do whatever action you once taught them to do. He tells me he is shut in his study and unable to leave, because he has taught everyone ever, so any zombie would have some form of control over him. He could therefore be easily overwhelmed. He goes on to tell me that zombies you were close to in life (like my friendly neighbors) will retain their personalities when and only when they are around you (or whoever else they were close to).

Flash! and back to my house, chatty zombies still rambling. I beat them over their heads but they kept talking, even with brain pulp showering out of their open skulls like confetti. We decided to just call them done-in and throw them in the basement, only to realize the basement was full. We decided to lead the harmless, broken zombies outside to make room for more. Throughout the dream refugees had been joining our number and in our mission to lead the bashed-in zombies outside, one of these refugees was found torturing one of the talking zombies. We all thought he must be some kind of sadistic sociopath because hey man, how can you be torturing a thing which is amicably carrying on a conversation with you? Yet we kept this psycho around because we didn't have the heart to throw him out.

We walked out into the backyard to see a bunch of animals wandering around, and suddenly the animals are the zombies and the zombie invasion is a friendly cuddly game which is part of a Disney MMORPG for children? Next thousands of shiny animal visages overlaying each other like a gigantic zoologist's kaleidescope keep flying at me, encompassing my sight entirely. Now the dream ends.

What. I love dreams.