Dream: local homicidal madman (“The Butcher of Baghdad”) in Minot

Minot. Alone. Driving around what is an extremely run-down slum of a neighborhood — the corner of Broadway and University Ave. Make a wrong turn into the driveway behind this one particularly dilapidated house on the corner, and I see a body under the wheels of this ancient beat up pickup truck. Looks like it’s been dead a long time, and was just left there. I drive around the dirt back yard, just trying to turn around and get out of there, and all over the yard I see piles of corpses — stacked up in piles — and stray body parts. Most of the people are dark-skinned — black? African? Middle Eastern?… Now I stop. I call 911 and explain. I wait… No one shows up. This is Minot — they should have been here in 5 minutes, 10 tops… I call Kari and tell her what’s going on; while I’m talking to her, I see this guy drive up in another really old, smoky rusty huge car. I see his face — he looks foreign, like an Arab. He sees me. I panic, and get the hell out of there — but I park nearby to try and watch him, or see what I can figure out. He’s brought back more bodies in the back of the car, and is chopping them up in the yard. Now I hear screams — the people aren’t dead, they’re being dismembered alive…

I keep thinking: how is nobody aware of this?? It’s right out in the open. And why aren’t the police here yet?…

I eventually discover that the guy is an Iraqi, who immigrated here along with a very large extended family and many other Iraqis from different tribes; there are tribal and religious feuds, more aptly called gang wars.

I learn that the police are well aware of the situation, but are ignoring it because they feel that “The Butcher of Baghdad” (as they call him) is helping them out — cleaning up the streets, getting rid of the immigrants, and essentially doing their job for them. He is sort of a private joke for them.

Later I am stuck in the back of that big car. He doesn’t know I’m there, I’m hiding. Another big old car pulls up; the driver has brought more bodies, seemingly as payment for something. I can’t understand their language. But it seems this payment is not enough, so the driver turns and says something to the person in the passenger seat, who then cuts off one of his fingers and offers it as payment…

I hear thunks, screams. The windshield of the car is splattered with blood. I hide on the floor in the back seat of the car and try not to move or make a sound…

I can’t remember any more…

(But, then, I should really just shut my bloody trap. Shouldn’t I.)