Iíve had this recurring, horrifying nightmare for the last few weeks. A carnival is coming to town, but itís not your typical carnival. Itís a carnival of death, and in my nightmares, the carnival workers abduct me to perform in one of their death-defying contest booths.

The first night I had this nightmare, I found myself wearing a revealing white bikini and standing on a platform above a large dunk tank, waiting for one of the contestants to hit the bullseye and drop me into the water. Ominously, the carnival workers tied my hands behind my back and chained a heavy weight to my ankle. Oh, and the water in the tank below me is teeming with hungry piranha.

As each new contestant comes up to throw their three baseballs at the bullseye, I beg them not to do it, but every time they ignore me. The worst part is that the contestants and the crowd cheering them on were my friends and neighbors.

The next night the nightmare was even worse. I was on a narrow, raised platform, wearing only stockings and high heels. Again, theyíd tied my wrist behind my back. Only this time, I rested with my ankles tightly bound against the back of my thighs while painfully tight ropes around my breasts led to an electric hoist mounted on a crossbar high above my head.

Again, the rules were diabolically simple. Each contestant had three chances to hit the bullseye next to me. Each time they managed to hit that bullseye, the platform beneath my high heels sank another notch, steadily forcing a massive, barbed steel shaft deeper into my rectum. However, the platform only has twelve notches, so the thirteenth baseball to hit the bullseye would cause the platform beneath me to drop away, allowing my body to sink deeper onto that obscenely barbed shaft until the ropes linking my bound breasts to that hoist drew taut. When that happens, a pressure switch will cause the hoist to activate, pulling me brutally upward by my breasts, lifting me off that massive steel shaft even as its unforgiving barbs painfully rip my insides apart.

Iíve come to dread going to sleep. Every night, that nightmare returns, and every night my inevitable death only grows more gruesomely obscene. Some people believe that your dreams can often foretell your future. Personally, I find that very thought utterly terrifying. Especially since I just read that a carnival is coming to town this weekend...