It's a Rare Condition

It was either Monday or Tuesday night (or early in the morning of one of the days that followed). I can't remember when. I was on a mission. I didn't know what my goal was, even in my dream I didn't know what my goal was; I just knew that I had one.

It was night, the sky was blood red with black clouds. I had travelled through time to a distant past, only to return to a present where the world I knew was turned upside-down, Back to the Future II style. But who was behind this sinister transformation?

I had a sidekick, though I can't remember his name. I wanna say it was Chuck Norris but that's only because he was in an awesome movie called Sidekicks. Except he wasn't the sidekick in that movie. Danica McKeller (The Wonder Years' Winnie Cooper) is also in that movie. I digress. Sidekick and I found ourselves in an unfamiliar suburban family neighborhood. We could hear commotion coming from a nearby backyard so we hopped the fence to check it out.


It didn't take long to discover the source of the commotion. Huddled in a corner of the yard, we observed a pack of feral children, dressed in rags. They seemed to be huddled around something, or rather, someone. As we cautiously approached the gang of seemingly rabid children, we discovered the center of their attention: Famliy Matters' Carl Winslow. We were instantly relieved and we marched boldly toward to the pack of kids. If anyone knew who was behind the evil transformation of our once pleasant world, it was Carl Winslow.

As we came closer to the band of wild kids, they turned to face us almost in unison. We immediately noticed the wild look of hunger in their eyes. Carl Winslow smiled diabolically. Something was wrong and we knew it. However, our curiosity bested us and we contiued our approach in order to satisfy it.

But Carl Winslow and his children (no, not Laura, Eddie, Little Richie, or even Steve Urkell) had something much greater than curiosity to satisfy: hunger. And Carl explained that Sidekick and I were to be their means of satisfaction!

No sooner had we learned of our intended fate did we turn and run, escaping the pack of hungry children and their "father", literally nipping at our heals. Over the fence and through the nearest time portal, we escaped into another, safer dimension.

So what was this mission I was so determined to accomplish? More importantly, what caused Carl Winslow, loving father and one of Chicago PD's finest, to resort to murder and cannibalism, the two things he had fought so hard to eradicate? I have no doubt that the two are somehow linked. But unless I return to that world of my slumber, I may never know. . . .