Okay, I woke up and got out of bed just to post this here.

I remember an event where there were a shit ton of people (more than the Super Bowl) and I had to get down to the bottom, so I jumped down off of my seat where to my left was a 40 degree incline that I just slid down. The material I was on was like a vinyl padding, like the stuff in gym class. So I slid aaallllllllllll the way down, and when I got to the bottom (where it suddenly leveled out) I curled up and rolled a couple of times and laid flat on my back. I went out to the truck, where there were supplies for making sandwiches. There was an iPad app for making said sandwiches; you would slather on whatever ingredients on the screen of the iPad and the sandwich would assemble itself perfectly in another region of the screen, while the ingredients you added were cleared away somehow. This sandwich app was actually one of a subset of functions that it had; I just had that one open. There was another function to the app that made you feel "tingly" based on what you thought. It was hardly a sexual thing, but one could use it that way if they so desired.

After the sandwich, I found myself entering a building, and subsequently, a classroom. This building I believed to be part of the stadium I was at, since the people going had "Bears" tickets to get in. For some reason, I didn't have one, and I got in anyway. I got the front row, where I knew some people. There were like 5 of us to a table, which was one of the long plastic kind. I mentioned that I liked the front row because I could see better and not have to worry about what the people were doing in front of me except for the teacher.

The teacher, who was in his 50's, had salt and pepper facial hair. I was worried he was going to kick me out because I didn't have a ticket. One of the other students said that he doesn't really care about it and not to worry about it. I had my phone out when he started talking. It was on the desk with my hand somewhat over it, with the home screen showing. As he walked to the right of the classroom while talking, I could tell he noticed my phone was on, so I put it on standby. He made a facial expression that I could only describe as "suspicion", but he never said anything further.

He started going off about how stupid the iPad app idea was and especially didn't like the "tingle" part, hinting prejudice towards the possible sexual aspects of it. There was a student who challenged him, which I learned very quickly what happens when opposition comes forth. He went to the front of the class, where the teacher had a couple of suits of armor, not to scale, for the students who would assume control over it. The teacher had his own suit, which was a reddish metallic color. He had a massive sword, which promptly sliced through the opposing user's sword.

The teacher went on about how his idea was right and couldn't be challenged. The teacher was about to deliver the finishing blow, when I grabbed it from him (by myself, no armor) from behind. The sword, which was still sheathed (which sheath was obviously sharpened) was somewhat heavy in my hands. As a testimony to my obvious debate skills, I shook off the sheath in a few motions. By this time, the teacher wasn't in his suit of armor, just in his plaid button up shirt. He fell to his knees, and was about to speak, but I swung the sword and planted it into the ground just next to his hand. He still sat there, stunned, with a look of defeat on his face.

I then turned to the rest of the class, who wasn't sure what they just saw. They knew the teacher, and didn't know what to think. With their attention wholly on me now, I began a speech. There wasn't much said, except that I told them something like "You see what happens when you challenge an opinion? An idea is an idea, regardless of its nature. Some may use the iPad app for evil, but that is their choice. As for me, I made a sandwich."

In the middle of my speech, people who I know, friends and acquaintances, came into the room. I hadn't known, because they had entered in the front, where there were some bookcases that obscured their view from me. There weren't very many that showed though, but when I had finished my statement, one of them cheered me on. The others didn't really say much, but instead looked as if they were disappointed in my apparent contentious style.

After all this, the teacher had since gotten up and started cleaning the moderate mess that was created. I looked back, and saw him at work, his body language showing the feeling of defeat and fatigue. There were a couple of loyal classmates who were helping him, but didn't say anything. I started towards him and began helping with the mess. I turn to him and say "I'm not a very good debate student. Once you present an opinion that I don't like, it's impossible to stop me."

At this point, I wake up.