I was awakened one morning by a steady dripping of water on my forehead. Upon investigating my surroundings, I found myself to be in a strange green field. A giant leaf of some sort was directly above me, and the dew that had collected on it flowed off the tip and into my face. With disgust, I ripped the leaf off the bush it was connected to and stuffed it firmly in my pocket.
As I rose to my feet, a strange man approached me from behind. Had he not bumped into me directly I wouldn't have noticed him at all. When I turned to face him, I found him to be a short, fat, bald man. He was only about as high as my waist, and he was draped in leather from head to toe: leather gloves, leather jacket, leather boots, and most disturbing of all, tight leather pants.
I looked at him for a while. Then, quite to my dismay, he began groping me and tried to remove my trousers. Needless to say, I slapped him in the face several times and threw him to the ground. However, my efforts seemed to have no effect, for he just grabbed a stick from the dirt and began rolling around me, trying to poke my posterior end. I fled in terror.
No sooner had I eluded the eccentric little man than I ran straight into some kind of strange homosexual ritual. A rather large group of short, fat, bald men were arranged in a circle. They danced around a tall bronze statue which I judged to be at least twenty feet tall, and every once in a while one of them would do a backwards somersault, splitting his tight leather pants apart as he landed. I stood aghast at this grotesque scene. They chanted some kind of awful voodoo language, which, mercifully, I could not understand.
I had turned away and was about to run when I heard a sudden cheer go up from the crowd. I quickly looked back to see what the excitement was all about. Atop the great statue stood one of the strange men. Wordlessly, he tore off his clothes with one swift motion. I was shocked. The crowd was entertained. He then stood on the tip of his left foot and began spinning wildly, arms outstreched lengthwise, face tilted toward the sky. He must have gone on for at least ten minutes before he decided to hurl himself off the structure. The crowd caught him before he hit the ground, and suddenly they all flocked to him, getting closer and closer, abnormally close. I didn't wait to see what would follow. I ran from the grim spectacle. When I last looked back, I saw them taking turns standing atop the statue, stripping, spinning, and throwing themselves to the crowd.
I ran until my lungs burned. I don't know how far I had gone, for the flat grasslands gave no indication of distance. All looked the same in all directions. I collapsed in the shade of a small bush. I was too weak to escape when the men clad in leather came for me. They formed a circle around me. In unison, they produced long, wooden sticks from behind their backs. I shrieked and lost consciousness.
When I awoke again, I found myself to be restricted somehow. At first, I thought they had tied me up with rope for some kind of awful torture. The truth, I discovered, was far more horrific. The strange feeling of constriction I had was attributed to my attire. I looked down at my clothes and felt a wave of disgust sweep over me. I was draped in leather: leather gloves, leather jacket, leather boots, and most disturbing of all, tight leather pants. I felt my rage boiling up inside me.
"Curse you!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. I took the opportunity to survey my surroundings. All was blue. Then I looked down. I saw a sea of brown, with dots of pink scattered throughout, and little bits of green interspersed between both. I looked at my feet again and saw the top of the bronze statue. I could no longer withstand the restrictive leather clothing. I furiously tore at the buttons and zippers, but to no avail. "Take your tight leather clothing and shove it!" I screamed. With one swift motion, I wrenched the fruity apparel from my body and flung it into the crowd below.
However, my sudden motions threw me off balance. I felt myself tipping toward the edge of the narrow pillar, which I now saw to be a square no more than two feet long. I pulled back and held my arms out lengthwise to regain my balance. I closed my eyes, dreading the worst. I felt the sun beaming down on my face, and the wind as I flailed wildly atop the statue. Then I found myself tipping in a circular motion, over and over again. I lifted my right foot and spun on the tip of my left foot. The world around me blurred. I got dizzy. Time seemed to stop. I don't know how long I spun there, naked, in front of the short spectators. All I know is that I eventually could stand no more of the madness. I threw myself off the edge of the pillar. I opened my eyes and saw the army of bald leather men waiting to greet me upon impact. I let loose one final cry of despair as I plunged into their midst. "Curse you!" I shouted at them again. I felt their busy hands at work, and I knew that I had been defeated. I lost consciousness once more. As reality faded to black, the feeling of constriction returned.
I awoke with a start in my own bed, relieved that it was only a dream. It had felt so real; too real. I felt along the table beside the bed. The lamp lit up the room. I looked at the book resting on the table. I resolved then and there to never read "Bedtime Stories of the Occult" before I go to sleep ever again.