I had a dream that there was this guy - a cowboy - who kept on traveling around to all these small towns and causing TROUBLE. He would break windows, free horses, and steal things just to throw away. He didn’t seem interested in personal gain. He just wanted to mess with everybody.

His incursions were becoming more bold, and now he was starting to shoot people.

Some lady organized a meeting, with representatives from each town in the county. We were obviously going to have to deal with this guy somehow.

But it was hard to get them to agree to anything. Everybody thought it was somebody else’s problem, and they hadn’t been attacked yet.

The lady tried to explain that it was just a matter of time, and we had to get together enough people to fight him off or capture him once and for all, or he’d just pick us off one at a time.

People left the meeting without an agreement, but apparently some interested parties met separately afterward. Their resistance was haphazard, disorganized, and small, but it was something.

There were two parties of resistance. I was in one of them, and I don’t think we were aware of the other.

So, the cowboy came into the town square and started looking for trouble to cause. Two townspeople shouted a challenge to him. One was armed with a pistol, and the other was mounted and armed with a rifle. He threw a rifle to the cowboy, and somebody brought the cowboy a horse. He was therefore challenged to the traditional duel of rifle-jousting. It was to be an honorable duel. They would separate by a set amount and then ride toward each other and fire their rifles. It was kind of like a game of chicken, because if you fire when you’re too far apart, you may miss, and because you’re galloping toward one another, you won’t get another chance to fire unless your opponent misses too, and there’s a second pass. However, if you fire too late, your opponent gets a chance to fire and maybe hit you before you get off a shot. And of course, you may miss because you’re firing your rifle one-handed while galloping.

So it was to be an honorable duel.

The cowboy took the rifle and put one foot in the stirrup of the horse. Everyone was relieved that he accepted this challenge. The cowboy began to raise himself up to the saddle.

Then, quick as lightning, he jumped out of the stirrup, turned, and fired on his opponent with his rifle. He scored true. The man was hit in the gut and fell off his horse, writhing in agony on the ground.

The other armed townsperson fled.

The cowboy smashed the window of a nearby clothing store and removed a pink dress. He dressed the wounded man in the pink dress to humiliate him. Then he rode the horse to the nearby chapel, where a wedding was taking place. He grabbed the bride and removed her veil and brought it back and placed it on the wounded man’s head and then urinated on him.

Then he rode off toward the highway.

This was where the second resistance group was planning on meeting him. I was part of this group. We had gathered together four trucks (some towns had one truck in them, some had no automobiles at all). Our plan was to have two trucks approach him from each direction on the highway. The highway was two lanes, so there would be no place for him to go. He would have to stop or crash into us. If he had chosen to crash, one of the other people would’ve been able to apprehend him.

We hadn’t counted on the cowboy being on horseback (he usually traveled in his truck, we knew). He had escaped with his dueling horse and easily evaded our truck by riding off the road as soon as he saw us.

Damn, he got away.