I'll show YOU jiggy with it!

Fragments....
I'm being chased by a woman. We run around the building, up stairs, through windows. The building is very much like a video game, one of those first person shooters, so there are many balconies and holse in the centre of rooms. I'm running and hiding, keeping one step ahead. Fortunately, it's all merely in fun, simply a game. If I get away, I win. If I'm caught, then she wins. But I'm torn, because part of me wants to get caught. Who is she?
Flash ahead, it's serious now. Someone has threatened her life, held her captive against her will. I am angry. I chase the man who threatened her. I catch him and we fight. He gets away and I chase him more. Now he's climbing into a helicopter, but it won't help him. It is on the side of the building, nose pointing to the sky like a rocket about to break gravity. Slowly the blades begin to turn, and he releases the catches. I peer over the edge and see the surprised look on his face as the giant beast spins as it falls, hitting the water below with a massive crash, the sound of metal tearing reaching up to my ears.
I'm down at the scene of the crash. The helicopter is still above water, but only barely. The man is still inside, and one door is open, possibly ripped off in the crash. Water is rushing in, and the man is not escaping. I'm enraged. He doesn't deserve to be let off the hook so easily, through death. He deserves to be punished, to be sent to jail, to rot for what he has done. Silently, the metal giant slips beneath the waves, the man still inside. I can't understand how he failed to escape. Someone offers this opinion: "Maybe the water was rushing in too quickly." I don't buy it. He had plenty of time, I could see him moving around. And then the man's body bobs to the surface. I reach down to drag him out. Suddenly his head arches back and he gasps for air. Grimly I smile and pull him to his feet. He tries to fight me, but I've wrapped my arms around his in a vise-like bear hug. It is then that I realise that his mind is gone. He keeps screaming the he is Peter Pan, and that he can fly. He thinks this, I suppose, because he played Peter Pan in a movie recently. Against the side of the building I can see a giant poster for said movie fluttering in the wind.
Some time later, days, weeks, maybe months. The man is in a mental facility of some sort. He is in a room with some other whackos shuffling around. To hear him speak and see him act, you'd think he was five years old. He is being shown a series of pictures, random people that he has never met. He has been told the names of everyone in the pictures, and now he is being tested, to see if he remembers. "Billy," he says to a picture of a man standing at a table in an old style outdoor cafe. "That's Tom and Donald, with Susan," to another. He does very well, remembering most of the names. I sit beside the teacher and put my arm around her and start helping her out. I realise that it is the same woman from before, the one that had been threatened by this whacko, the one that had chased me. I suppose I had been caught after all.
The real funny thing is, the whacko, Peter Pan as they now call him, is Will Smith, rapper and actor. What a world.

So there we ago, another intense dream. I'm not really sure what to make of this one. The problem is, even though I tried to write it down as soon as I woke up, there were bits, important bits, missing right from the start. I think it's because I wasn't woken up by the dream. Instead I was roused by my alarm clock, before the full impact of the dream had been realised. I'm really curious about how Will Smith relates to all of this. I usually like him. I don't really think that he is a megalomaniacal jerk, or that he knows how to pilot a helicopter, especially a sideways one. Who knows.
Ciao.