Snapshots from last night's dream:

Riding about a small italian town (the kind with winding, cobbled streets, piazzas and old fashioned buildings looming quaintly everywhere) in a large, fibreglass caddy. The driver was the ominous boss of two yakuza style assassins I had met earlier, and who hid his dangerous nature behind the facade of an immature and sycophantic teenager. Long, greasy brown hair, large eyes, pale skin and an over eager manner. However, he'd spared the life of a space lieutenant earlier by telling the yakuza guy behind him something like, "I know you have already heated both paper clips and are ready - but not now."

Anyways. Riding around in this badly made caddy, trying to catch up with some people. Driver decides to make a go at driving up some stone steps, but the caddy was too long and got stuck. I jumped out, and saw that the fiberglass middle was bending dangerously, so I ran round to the back and grabbed the caddy and shifted it around, hoping to give the bicycle tires more purchase. Didn't work, so I pulled it back, off the steps, and leapt back in as we began to cruise around for another way up.