Kleine Bo Piepsen

I had the most ridiculous erotic dream about WMFH last night. I am only mentioning it here because the bizarre degrees of Jungian* weirdness are amazing.

Cut for those who don’t really want to read this (I keep it PG-13, I promise)
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The Lockpicker

I am known far and wide for my strange and prodigious dreams. Tonight, on the longest night of the year, was no exception.

I’m in a high-rise apartment full of tiny, Japanese style apartments. It is nighttime. There is a small gathering of boys in their late teens/early 20s having an argument. Apparently, several of them are amateur  computer hackers and have done wrong to the one laying on the bed. He swears his revenge, gets into the bed, and starts to summon something. We hear a noise out in the hall, a slow, quiet ticking, like someone gently rattling their keys. The sound grows in volume and intensity, becoming faster and faster. We start to become afraid. I peep through the crack under the door into the hall and see the main door vibrating and and changing, becoming eerily translucent. I can see a short, squat figure, wearing a floppy, wide brimmed English farmers hat and dirty peasant jerkin, doing something to the door from the other side. It is The Lockpicker, an entity that takes gruesome vengeance on people who break into things or steal. The boys scatter down the hall to their own apartments. I stay on the floor, peeking under the door. The Lockpicker enters, with a creepy half-smile on his face. He casually starts walking down the hall to one of the boy’s apartments. He stops by the door I am hiding behind. I know that nothing, NOTHING, in this world can hide me from him, no door can keep him out, no lock, no wall, nothing. He looks directly at me with his creepy smile… and then continues down the hall while the boys scream in the face of their inevitable fate…

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