I went to China by plane to attend some sort of important keynote about cybersecurity or about Python. We were waiting for it to begin, sitting on some benches that reminded me of those installed in churches, in a room that had a pretty old style, like the royal stuff you might see in European palaces: red walls and sliding doors made of dark wood with gold ornaments.

A mom and her son were sitting on a sofa, looking in front of them at the outside world through an opened sliding door. It was cloudy, almost rainy. The mom asks her son to reply to some questions, as training to a contest he would be a part of. The only question where a valid answer would lead to mom giving a prize (some candy I think) was “What is the war of friendship”.

A little girl passes by and hears the question and says “I know the war of friendship, I visited it once in Israel”. I guessed that “friendship” (amitié in french) might just be something phonetically related to a place in Israel. The mom got annoyed at the little girl for “ruining the joke”.

I remember someone, maybe Arnold Schwarzenegger, intervening quickly to implement the Healer, a tool that… heals. To do so, he played leapfrog in space. People took his hand to help push him. Nobody was wearing a spacesuit.

I got teleported into some sort of home improvement store. Although I am used to getting access to the IT department of many buildings using some special keys I have that I put in a special machine, the machine instead gives me a jute bag labeled “Floor Bag 3”. The machine is the size of a closet and its front side is some blue grate. A blue plate lets me put the keys, and a receptacle holds whatever comes out of the machine. It seems the machine is sending me to work on the assembly lines instead of in the IT department.

Half of the store is not really a store but a factory. Picture a store with a large glass entrance with the cashdesks to the left after the entrance, normal aisles, the blue machine, then a large conveyor belt surrounded by yellow or blue grating with many workers around it.

Towards the back, high above, are a bunch of I-beams supporting some metal grating and yellow handrails. Below it is a large round lamp, like the ones you might find in a garage. That lamp was really necessary because the glass entrance is the only other source of light.

All the blue and yellow reminds me of Ikea or Goodyear.

Upon seeing me with the “Floor Bag”, another employee working here tells me with a smirk that my bosses probably wanted to punish me for some sort of mistake I have made. That employee ends up explaining that “Healer” was some sort of pun, a joke for newbies similar to “elbow oil”.