Banquets, Death and Whiskey

10/17/10                                                                                                                                                            
I danced at a banquet, filled with many unknown faces.  A few friends were there, including Jared.  Many of them were seated at my table in the back of the hall.  The banquet was decorated for a wedding, although there wasn't a bride or groom in sight.  A large stage was in the front and a small round dancing stage, like a small pavilion, was off to the right.  Not everyone at the banquet was happy; in fact, 20 or more uniformed individuals entered to discuss matters with a few party attenders- most likely the organizers of the event.  Without warning, a tall dark man, a friend that existed only in my dream, stepped out from the side entrance of the stage holding a large weapon that was uncannily similar to a bazooka.  People began to panic but no one panicked more than the armed man.  As the uniformed individuals cautiously moved towards him I made my move to get out of range of fire.  I paused behind the pavilion to watch my friend run into the crowd turn towards me only momentarily and than launch what was nothing less than a bomb at the empty stage.  My friend was now dead and I did not question it.  Completely un-distraught, I left the scenes of terror at the front of the banquet and walked swiftly towards my table to find what was left of my company.  As I walked past the unattended bartender's station, I noticed a handful of individuals taking advantage of the chaos as they grabbed expensive bottles of alcohol as loot.  I reached up and felt the top shelf, snatching the most expensive bottle of whiskey present, and searched for Jared to have a toast.