I am living on a lower floor in the World Trade Center

Living with me are my daughter, one of my best friends from high school and his son, and an unknown woman with whom I want to have sex. The woman has a pack of special condoms that she keeps by her bedside, but she won't let anyone take them. I convince my daughter to go into the woman's bedroom and ask her for a condom. Just as my daughter is about to walk in, I hear an enormous rumbling over my head. The building is collapsing. Quickly I grab my daughter and run out of the building. My best friend also manages to escape, grabbing his son as well. The woman who I wanted to sleep with does not get out of her bed, and she dies in the collapse of the building.

My friend and I decide to go visit the mothers of our children. We leave both of our kids with them and wander up to midtown Manhattan. There is a new building there, about 85 stories high. My friend convinces me that we should climb the building. We hatch our plan and join a tour group that features mostly recently-paroled felons from a nearby prison. While an elderly woman with bright orange hair tells the group about the building's construction, I slip past her and start climbing the building. There are little notches built into the exterior that make the task fairly easy. Soon my friend joins me. As we continue to climb, the elderly woman and the felons down below start yelling at us to come down. Soon they are joined by the police, who bark at us through their bullhorns. We keep climbing. Soon we reach a ledge near the top. My friend stands up and says the wreckage from Ground Zero looks beautiful. I am too nervous to stand and stay crouched close to the ledge.

The dream cuts away to a new scene. Now I am riding in an RV with my wife, my daughter, my friend's son, and my friend's wife. My friend is driving the RV up front. I talk excitedly about how we climbed the building. I am standing in the middle of the RV, next to a couch, gesturing wildly with my hands. Up at the driver's seat, my friend accidentally pushes the wrong button, which causes the floor beneath me to open. I tumble downwards into a mini bathroom, with a toilet and sink. "Holy shit!" I exclaim. "This thing has a toilet!" I call back up to my friend telling him to close the trap door so I don't fall into the toilet again. As I say this I am still standing in the mini-bathroom. My friend hits the button again and the sliding doors close in on me quickly, trapping my skull in their vice-like grip. I groan.

The scene changes again. Now I am watching a commercial on television. The commercial is a preview for an upcoming movie that is a reenactment of our daring trip up the skyscraper. It stars Robert De Niro and Al Pacino. In the previewed scene, De Niro and Pacino are talking as they slowly climb up the building. Then De Niro slips, Pacino tries to catch him, and they both start sliding down the building. They land in a little crevice that deposits them, like two coins in a slot machine, into an elevator that whisks them to the ground floor. They jump out of the elevator and prepare to start climbing again.