I've been reading too much of
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. And I'm sure reading
The Extra didn't help things either.
I had a dream that I was a man. I was approaching a large mansion in order to battle with THE GREATEST ZOMBIE SCOURGE OF THEM ALL (aka: apparently a zombie-man who was to blame for everything; he was trying to find a way to immortality but only ended up making himself un-dead and brain-hungry). As I entered his mansion I entered the largest room, which the foyer immediately led to, and was instantly face-to-face with my enemy. After chatting very briefly (and entirely consisting of me informing him he was about to die and him telling me to get the hell out) we started our battle.
Naturally, we fought with swords. Because he was a zombie, however, it was only obvious that his sword would be brittle and weak. Although I fought with all my skill his undead prowess was no match for me and I soon found his sword in my throat. When he tried to withdraw his sword to kill me the steel snapped and was left inside me.
Muttering "I'll come back when your sword is fixed" I stumbled from the mansion and poorly drove to the hospital where my friend (who was a doctor AND also Dustin Hoffman) worked. As he was confronted with my situation he left to have a conflicted monologue in another room about how difficult it was to see me injured and how he couldn't possibly take the challenge of fixing me knowing that I could die from it.
While he was doing that I went to the bathroom to check out the severity of my injury in a mirror. I pulled my shirt down and the majority of the sword clattered to the floor.
As it turned out, only the tip was wedged in my throat! The majority just was stuck in my shirt! Ho ho ho!
Then I woke up.