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somewhere in the western united states, a native american stirs inside the smokey confines of his teepee.
The Dream is always the same...
funny accents, teapots and a magic device that steals your soul (and traps it on a piece of paper). big medicine indeed.
he's rolls over slowly and stretches, while casually gazing at his display of scalps that were taken from the white devil on the field of battle. hot blood, smoke, sweat and screams.
a nearby barking coyotes bring him back.
"nothing I can't handle" he mutters to himself and pulls the grizzly bear fur back over his head.
as it always does, the dream returns. but this time....it seems closer. suddenly he's not so sure.
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