Dreams.

Today I dreamt that I was traveling through America with some guy in his fifties, either Richard or Robert, and we were killing random people. One of us ran away, and we couldn't catch him. Then we ran into either cops or rangers. They stopped us, locked us up in the station, and decided to search us, check our documents, and interrogate us. While I was making excuses and hiding the evidence, my accomplice successfully escaped with all the belongings, leaving me alone against the law enforcement, who were already starting to suspect that we were murderers. Moral of the story: serial killers don't make good friends.