Dream: "The Shadowy Sun"

Last night I had a dream of epic proportions. Not only was it filled with a gaggle of handsome men, but I made a movie! I woke up immediately this morning, turned to my journal and pen (which always rest to my left, mind you) and began scribbling the bits and pieces I remembered. It was quite a colorful dream, and I can only thank the copious amounts of ice cream cake and pizza I consumed last night. Junk food always makes the best muse. I feel as if I'm not typing this quickly enough. I feel like a cup filled beyond the brim with inspiration, but with a thin viscose layer of PM clarity holding me back from carelessly spilling everything onto the table. Here are bits and pieces of my dream that I remember.

The Story
The title of the film will be "The Shadowy Sun." I don't understand its significance, perhaps there is none. Anyway, it tells the tale of two friends, Otto and Don (played by Robert Downey Jr and Adrien Brody, respectively) and their trip circumnavigating the globe in a rather dowdy vessel named Sylvia. They stop in various places, meet various people, but must always continue their travels. There will be no romances in this film, mainly because I grow quite tired of women only serving as these pretty little intermezzos between big action sequences. There will be women, however.
Anyway, on their journey they acquire several sought after artifacts (perhaps an urn from the underwater city, Atlantis, a sword of Kublai Khan?) and begin their latest conquest--to find ancient Mayan ruins in the month of November. During this time, Don has a troubling dream, figures it's just because of all of the Day of the Dead talk in the streets of Guadalajara, and thinks nothing of it.
However! Several days later, the two friends are about to sail to the Yucatan peninsula, when two modern day pirates, Francisco and Herman (ur-Mahn) (played by Daniel Day Lewis and Don Cheadle) seize the ship. They plunder, pillage, rape and do all of the things that pirates do except with a modern and sexy swag. Soon, the four meet and engage in a battle royale in the study of Sylvia's small interior. However, mother nature trumps all modern men and machinery and they drown to death. Fin.

A few excerpts:

DON'S DREAM

the coast of Mexico, in November. A few brittle calaveras flew into the sky, the salty wind knocking down a few gooey organs, and a few oozing eyeballs as they, like macabre hyenas, sang:

"Fear? I am not afraid of that!
I am fear and am falling to pieces!
It's here, our end is near!
Fear not me, but what is near!"

THE SEIZURE OF SYLVIA

"It's time, gentlemen. Time to meet your salty demise." He waved his shiny sword into the sky, reflecting an uneasy and insecure set of green eyes to his enemies. Otto and Don looked to each other, and smiled.

"Are you sure about that?" they asked.

He looked to his sword, and suddenly he could feel each wave lapping at the boat's underbelly. He waited a few moments too long before continuing. "Y, yes." And then he looked up, and they had vanished.

BATTLE ROYALE

"Quick, get the fuck out of there!" Otto cried to Don. He ran down the narrow and flooded hallway. "Into the study, get behind this desk!" He grabbed the sleeve of Don's shirt, and thrust him behind the secretary. Pulling a blowtorch from the bookcase, he threw it to Don.

He caught it with surprising alacrity. Then laughed. "A blowtorch? Really? From a bookcase?"

Otto shook his head in disdain. "Oh, shut it, Don. Haven't you read Fahrenheit 451?"

Don sighed. "Well, yeah, sorry RAY-" He was interrupted by the door slamming to the ground. Francisco and Herman entered the room, pistols first.

"Alright, come out from the paper, boys. We're here to punctuate your papers. Get out, let's put some periods on your sorry bodies," Francisco sneered.

At once, his curled mustache melted off. It was incinerated by the blowtorch. "Still feelin' strong now that you don't have your stache, partner?" Don laughed.

Francisco was still stroking his chin and hair, or lack thereof, when the boat rocked, knocking all of the men from their positions. "We've got one helluva storm, don't we mate," scowled Herman.

"I don't care," screamed Otto. "You sons of bitches are getting off this piece here and now--through water or through bullets. Your choice. Get out, or I'll leave it to technology."

Before he could put his sweaty finger on the trigger, Francisco shot Otto in the stomach, creating a massive period where his intestines should be. "Your story," he sneered, "has been told."

Otto's face was frozen in disbelief. Don was still fending off Herman when Sylvia's beady porthole shattered, and the Mexican waters metastasized onto the floor. When Don saw Otto crumple to the floor like a broken piece of origami, he dropped his blow torch and ran to his punctuated pal.

Francisco and Herman drew nearer. "Otto, if we go," Don chuckled, "we're going together." He turned to the pirates, who were now wading in the knee deep water. "You want us?" he cried, "And this drowning girl? Take us."

The water was rising exponentially, the salt causing Otto to cry out in pain. And soon enough, the four sorry souls were neck deep in a crimson tide. "Well," laughed Francisco as he spat salty red water, "it looks like the end of us won't be on our own terms, but water making its way into our black lungs. I'm not going to let it take me. Goodbye, gentlemen. I'll see you down the stream." And with that, he grabbed his nose, and dipped forever into the ever increasing deep. Herman, teeth clattering in the distance, swam off into Sylvia's sunken hall.

"Well," Otto laughed, "it looks like your dream was right."

"Except for one thing," Don smiled, water choking his would-be smile. "We're not scared, right?"

They laughed, lights flickering, and soon enough, their damp and dark hair was touching Sylvia's ceiling. "You know, Don, you're right." He gargled the water. "And I gotta say, I still love the ocean. And not from a plane, either. But from a boat. Where I can touch it and feel it and smell it and get hurt by it." He was now gasping for breath, arms pressed firm against her taut ceiling. "Yeah, just like a boat," a smile slowly grew on his face, "but with life rafts."

And then the lights blew, and the two friends sunk into the Mexican depths like a fallen empire.