Many Dreams from Many Nights After Many Different Meals: Part Twelve

Beating Audrey Hepburn at Skeet Shooting
Christy and I are on a very sad excuse for a beach. Whether or not it is on a lake or beach, I can't tell. The sand is very dark and there are jagged rocks lining the brink of the shore. It is dusk and there are very few people left. It is, after all, a very sad excuse for a beach.
For one reason or another, I leave to get something from the car. There is a pavilion at the top of the beach (the beach is sloped down like a very gradual hill) and I have to walk through it to get to the parking lot, also small and very sad. The tables are littered with paper products and the fire-place is still smoldering (there is a fire place in the wall closest to me).
As I exit the pavilion, I am no longer at the beach nor am I outdoors. As I exit the pavilion, I am in a school library of some sort. It is two stories, but not very expansive otherwise, and dimly lit. Everything seems to be some hue of yellow or brown.
I pass by the circulation desk and notice that I am not alone in my company. There is a small, older Japanese man at my side. I am escorting him around. I do not speak Japanese. He does not speak English. This seems like something that would happen to me.
The small Japanese man and I wander around for a while. He will speak to me time and again in Japanese and I, time and again, will nod politely, sometimes even giving an empty-headed thumbs up. Despite our obvious language barrier, we coexist.
Eventually, the Japanese man (the small one) grows tired with the selection of books in the main library and heads down a discreet hallway in a nook far from officious eyes. The hallway is narrow and I don't feel right traveling down our latest avenue, but as I am the small Japanese man's escort, I must.
The narrow hallway leads to a door. As I am the escort, I open the door and step through first. When the door closes behind me I am in a large room set up very much like my friend Cody's old bedroom ( if you are not familiar with Cody's old bedroom, I apologize - there is no helping it), but one of the four walls is done up in bright red brick. The ceiling has to be at least twelve feet high - at least fifteen feet high. These are some high ceilings. Now I am alone in a large room with a bright red brick wall and high ceilings. The small Japanese man is gone. Was he the Keymaker from The Matrix?
All of a sudden, the large room with the high ceilings and the one, bright red brick wall comes to life. It takes me a second (literally) to understand that this is now the obstacle room in the Technodrome from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. There are an assortment of machines upon me outfitted with blades and turbines, the next deadlier than the last. I imagine I am out of luck but am saved at the last minute by Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo.
After they defeat the machines, they turn their aggression toward me. Right before I am hit in the face by a sai, I wake up feeling put out. Why did my Ninja Turtles want to kill me? Am I some prophet of doom? Am I inherently evil? Are, or were, they under some evil spell?
I don't think about this for too long because I am on my way to the bathroom to remember exactly what happened in my dream. Number twos.