I had decided I wanted to join a church. I had a particular reason for wanting to join – I wanted to sing in a choir (which I kept calling a "chorus" in my mind, instead of a choir). I was convinced that although my voice was unpracticed, if I would simply start singing in a church chorus, I would develop a wonderful singing voice.

Since I wanted to find the best men's chorus available, I decided to visit several churches, and choose the church which had the best men's chorus.

The first church I visited was an enormous building constructed of heavy dark rock. Once inside, I wandered around the high-vaulted cathedral, gradually moving to upper levels, almost as if I were floating. I was duly impressed by the magnificence of the place, concluding that this might be the very church which I was searching.

When my visit was finished, and I decided to leave, I seemed to float through a window on an upper story of the church, and float gently down to the ground. The church, which appeared to be located in the country, was surrounded by grassy green fields. As I looked over the tranquil countryside, my pet Dalmatian Picasso ran up to me.

Suddenly, we both saw a rabbit running through the field beside us. Picasso jumped through a barbed wire fence and began chasing the rabbit, which now looked more like a groundhog. Suddenly I saw danger – a bear, wearing a red collar – was on the other side of the fence, about a meter away from Picasso. I frantically hollered to Picasso to come back. When I looked at Picasso, I was horrified by what I saw: a large wolf with huge teeth had grabbed Picasso by the neck and was holding him.

I immediately jumped over the fence, ran toward Picasso, and began pulling a black handgun out of my pocket. I pointed the gun at the wolf, afraid to fire because I might hit Picasso, but realizing I had no choice except to shoot if I wanted to save Picasso.

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