Glocks: 1, Samurai Swords: 0

I have a suspicion that conceal-and-carry provocateurs are beaming messages into my brain whilst sleeping. To wit, my vaguely-remembered dream from two nights prior:
The setting: college campus; from what I can recall, not the U of M in particular
The (severely limited) action:
I am in a building, near the largest "mall-like" area of Dream U, conversing with an unidentifiable "friend." The friend and I proceed to engage a stranger in some sort of debate or argument about something. My friend and I, our shared argumentative position, angers said stranger. Greatly angers him. Apparently our disparate point-of-view necessitated a strong reaction. One that went beyond angry, shouted reproaches or even fisticuffs and nestled right up against "attack with samurai sword." And attack with samurai sword the man did. Luckily for me, he went after my comrade and severed his limbs from his body first, allowing me to gain a better advantage that was allowed to my friend: running. And so I ran with an unusually heightened sense of purpose--with a seriousness that evokes comparison only to near-daily races against my brother down the gravel road from our neighbors house in Sturgis, South Dakota. Thankfully, the integrity of the running surface contained in my dream was a great improvement over the winding, downhill, gravel-composed road of my youth--and with the aid of surer, stabler footing, I was able to elude the sword-swinging psychotic long enough to incur only a few minor flesh wounds before my savior descended. More accurately, said savior happened to be milling about the mall--and packing heat. A situation which otherwise would have ceased with my bloodied and very disembodied corpse, instead concluded with a gun-toting fellow undergrad's heroic intercession.