I think I just woke from the most cinematic dream I have ever had.

We were in a home for abandoned kids. The only thing any of us had in common is that we loved to show off. We each had our own talents. Some knew how to construct things, some could sing, some could dance, some knew how to cook. We were all self-sufficate and able to entertain ourselves. A weird family, but a family none the least. It was run by this old southern man we called "The General." We called him that because he'd, on special occations, break out a Civil War Rebel General suit compleate with sword. He prized the sword above the suit because that sword looked to be in mint condition and had a solid gold handle. Nice guy, but never talked much. A smile here and there, but he was mainly in the background unless he needed to be called to the front line. We weren't the only house like this. There was a long time frat house that always thought they were better than the broken home we lived in and tried to maintain. They were ran by a old guy that was a rival of the General and had a thing about doing things as big as possible. One night, as we were watching the big local homecoming game of one of the High Schools each of our family members went to, that rival house threw the biggest homecoming half time. Problem was, they stole several things of ours. The one item that gave it away what they stole was a small hang-glider that someone made all by himself/herself able to hold and balance out 2 people and a pair of fan engines for further guild. After the game, we met up with these frat boys and got into a minor shuffle, I got thrown into the pool as the General was breaking it up. When I resurface, I see his prize sword laying on the ground and the General's rival coming over looking all evil and smug. Picture the aid of Billy Zane's character from Titanic only in a weird looking Roman robe. He makes a comment about how the home can't afford to stay up, and how he is willing to help out.... if.... if we are able to out preform him using our talents. As collateral, the rival give a little brass sliper he called a "Hot Foot" and the General, against everyone's silent plead not to, gave his sword. If we cannot out proform the rival frat, we lose our home and the General loses his prized Civil War sword. Naturally, we tried to prepare it right away, but when we got home, we found out they took more that just the hang-glider....

I really hate when I wake up from these kinds of dreams. I so want to know what happens next!