I dreamt that I was famed British folk guitarist Richard Thompson. I was being held prisoner aboard a nuclear submarine in drydock at a secret military warehouse. My captors were very cordial with me, and extremely respectful of my many famous accomplishments in the field of espionage. I escaped when they left the hatch ajar, saying "oh, you can try to escape if you like - that's a secure facility."
I almost got caught miles away in a hotel as I was half-running, half-sliding down an emergency stairwell and I ran into two security guards - one of whom was in walkie-talkie contact with the evil command central! He blew the whistle on me and I clonked him on both sides of the head in a fit of pique (the other guy I just harmlessly nerve-pinched into unconsciousness).
But when I saw him lying there, I said "aw man! He's just an old dude." I didn't want him to die from my head-clonking, so I picked up his walkie-talkie and risked all by describing the detailed medical procedure that would save his life.
Then I took off in the opposite direction as evil forces closed in on all sides.
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