Dogs, Zombies, Michael Jackson

Playing with a band. My little brother's the drummer. Michael Jackson's on the bill with us, playing some little backyard party. MJ's drummer doesn't show so my brother sits in.
I go a few blocks to Darin's house where he's fighting some super crazy monster zombie thing. Apparently you buy this thing, like a toy and then you have fun keeping it from killing you. I help Darin kill it and then we bury it. We're pounding on the ground and what not and talking about how we have to make sure it's dead. It was pretty hard to put down, more than Darin bargained for. When Darin's finally satisfied that it's dead he turns his back and I see that the damn things face in unburried and it's alive.

"It's back. I'm outta here." I say. I call the rental company or manufacturer or something and they agree to come get it. I tell Darin he just has to fight it until they get there.

Bryna and I go to some all night diner/bar type place and the guy who runs it, a friend of are apparently, asks us to put down his dog for him. We call the little white French bull dog into the dirty bathroom where we'll kill him. I look at him and he's such a great little dog. I decide we'll take him home. We'll keep him while we find him a good home unless he just works out really good in our place in which case we'll just keep him.