I need to stop dreaming about Marillion….

Last night I dreamt the world was in an advanced state of decay, way more than it actually is in our present reality. I was barely surviving in a zombie dominated wasteland, a scenario well documented in many films, games and novels. This particular apocalypse was not that different to the popular depiction. I spent most of my existence running and hiding in various run down locations across the west of Scotland. A few months ago I dreamt about a fantastic  metal pub, this occurred in the unnamable region where space was folded between Linwood and Corstorphine. It was apparent to me that the dream Earth ravaged by this zombie plague was the same Earth as the one in the previous dream about the metal pub. I commandeered a red car and drove to said metal pub to check which version of Earth I was in. The pub was in ruins, I held up there for a few hours and met some post apocalyptic bar staff who also saught solace in the ruins. They told me a story of a fabled Travelodge somewhere near Glenrothes that was as safe a place as you could wish for. So we made the long treck across Scotland to find the refuge. Along the way, I was subjected to visions which bestowed me with knowledge about the source of the zombie catastrophe. It was sonic in its source. At this point in the story there was an elipsis, as if the dream had been crudely edited from directors cut to cinematic release. Somewhere in the missing section I had acquired the master tapes for Marrilions album ‘Script For A Jesters Tear’ and was frantically remixing the album using impulse responses taken from the guitar sound of swedish death metal legends Entombed, specifically from their Wolverine Blues album. It was unclear how I managed this, but it was something to do with a bastardised vacuum tube television and a car stereo, in a situation not dissimilar to the Fallout franchise. As it turns out, the zombie armageddon was brought about by a series of events beginning innocently enough with Marillions hit Kayleigh which sonically distorted human DNA. Once the album was suitably remixed I drove around Scotland blazing Marillion with a swedish buzzsaw guitar tone from the stereo. After a day or so I returned to the Travelodge in Glenrothes and began to see the fruits of my labour. The combination of Marillion and Entombed had indeed rid the world of zombies. Unfortunately it had also super evolved cats into huge super intelligent tigers, which preyed on the stragglers of humanity far worse than zombies ever did. After a short while equilibrium occurred and I was allowed to work for a tiger who spent his days lounging on a sofa. My job was to continue to remix albums of his choosing and running the guitars through the Entombed impulse response.

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