I am in a house and a weird, surreal thing goes on. A man and his wife and their son live there. I am visiting. There are two bedrooms and I open one and see the son in there and I open the next one and the son says, "Look." I look on the bed and I see a shark fin cutting a circle like out of an iceberg. "Shark," I yell. The son peeks in and we see a baby alligator. I say, "I hope he doesn't get out." I look under the bed to see if he's crawling out that way. I leave the room. The wife, sort of Goldie Hawn-like, has her back to me and the husband comes up and playfully tries to kiss me. I am concerned. Did the wife see? This isn't right. I pull away (the dream ego is observing all this). I walk away. Now the man is sort of crazed and he goes into the first bedroom. The wife says, "We have to kill him." She hands me a rifle. She has one. We go into the room. He's in a chair (sort of like Merle's wheelchair and sort of a tank). He has a rifle and raises it to shoot me. I take aim and fire. I blow a hole in the chair and in him about belly or thigh height. He screams in pain. He then aims at me to shoot. I fire again and again. He keeps coming. I wonder if I ever had bullets. I start to run toward the door. He and the son come around to get me and as I make it to the door, I see them coming right at me. The only thing to do is to die. I hope it doesn't hurt too much when he rolls over me. He comes and I go under and I am completely pulverized. The purple gunk that is left over of me flops in the track of the chair/tank. It's kind of gruesome. My consciousness observes all this. The family won. Husband, wife, and son were all in this together.