I disembark a train at Exhibition Centre station, Finnieston. The station is somewhat different from reality, and - perversely - passengers leave the low-level station via a downward staircase. A huge throng of people leave the station, and the stairs are crowded. As I near the bottom, a stranger, immediately behind me, falls, saved only by grabbing my neck clumsily. Customary thanks are exchanged, and I continue on my way.

I turn left out of the station, through an underpass (like at Cathcart, Langside, &c stations) towards the river. On the rough site of the SECC east car park (towards the City Inn and the Finnieston crane), there is a Millennium-esque glass-roofed building, which I enter with a friend, who materialises out of nowhere or maybe the car park.

The interior seems to be a cross between the Millennium Dome, the Eden Project, and the Glasgow Science Centre. My friend and I sit down at a long table, upon which some fossils sit in basins of very clean dirt. Close by, the mysterious faller is polishing an old fossil. My friend goes over to speak to her, and starts chatting her up.

The bizarre centrepiece of the centre is a tropical glasshouse in which there is a huge wooden model of an androgynous person, doing a push up. The left arm is held in by gravity and good grace, so I find that I can dislodge it, rather like the broken hind leg on my miniature wooden rocking horse. I push it back in place before the whole model falls down.

I am trapped within a third-person, isometric 3-D computer game. I am trying to open a locked door, which sits on its own (not on a wall or anything) at the top of a two-step doorstep, on the edge of a forest. However, I am being butted by animals, ranging from bison to odd winged mutants and general freaks.

I finally manage to pick the lock, and the door bursts open. On the other side of the door, there is an uphill path through the forest, which I run along. The beasts pursue me. The running is like a computer game: I start in the bottom-left of my field of vision, and run to the mid-right, then this repeats.

It turns out that I have been running up an escarpment. I and the beasts tumble over a steep, and very high, cliff edge and hurtle toward the ground, far below. Fortunately, two-thirds of the way down, we all sprout wings, and swoop into graceful flight.

I am taking part in a strange experiment, somewhere along the lines of Big Brother, but with inexplicable overtones of the execrable skydiving film, Terminal Velocity. I, along with four people whom I recognise from my school days, are incarcerated in a cell in a prison, along with several other groups inside a big jail.

Some challenge, or vote, is set, and I lose. I have to sleep on a white towel. When the retrial comes round, I have to remain down there. Two weeks later, we emerge into a northern-English theme park. I note with despair the queue of people to try the ride from which I have just emerged, which is advertised as a log flume.

I am in University, eating a Mars bar, and standing on Hillhead Street, in the approximate vicinity of the Psychology department. I get into a car with Raquel from Only Fools and Horses (Tessa Peake-Jones), and a teenage boy in the front, and an unknown man, assumedly the father, in the driver-side back seat. I sit in the back.

The journey begins down Gibson Street. I notice that the street is wider than normal, and there are some large signs indicating that the street meets Kelvin Way and Bank Street at a large, irregularly shaped roundabout. The green sign also indicates that a place called Maseuse (sic) can be got to by following Bank Street to Great Western Road and then bearing left.

The cars passes over the roundabout, continuing on Gibson Street and Woodlands Road. However, the road is a four-lane, urban motorway. The man in the back of the car offers me a Mars bar, which I accept, and then presses my nose. I find this to be very odd behaviour, so we stop the car on the hard shoulder (which, strangely, is on the right-hand side of the road, the carriageways seemingly having switched after the road commenced).

The man and I get out. He places a Mars bar on the red tarmac of the hard shoulder. He asks me what I think of it: I reply that I am not scared of the Mars bar. He goes "wooooooo", in a melodic style: I reply that this doesn't scare me either, as it makes me think of Cadbury's Flake (because he had been making his noise to the tune of the Flake advert). He kicks the Mars bar onto the carriageway: I admit that I am now a little scared.

We look round and notice that the car is gone. We set out along the hard shoulder, until we see an underpass, beyond the overgrown grass verge. At or around this point, the man transmogrifies into David Jason, making sense for once. The underpass goes under the motorway, leading to the north. As we enter it, I notice that it is flooded with about two feet of water. Somehow we pass under it and up onto Great Western Road.

We enter a small charity shop, where we find Raquel and the boy. He is shown a rack of jeans and Raquel suggests that he tries some on. He grumbles that this will take at least half an hour, and even then he probably wouldn't like them.

At this point, the charity shop becomes my living room, Raquel and David Jason become my mum and dad, and the boy becomes my elder brother. My brother and I are sitting on the sofa, my parents in the two armchairs.

The television chef Brian Turner enters, carrying a stack of boxes purporting to contain our dinner. He tells me that the bottom one contains dessert. I open this one first, and find that it contains a slice of tomato and some green-coloured rice. Inadvertantly, I spill it all over the settee.

I am suitably chastised for this, and I fetch the vacuum cleaner, which sucks away all of the rice from between the cushions. The television is on and showing a programme in which teams of university students are gunged (à la Noel's House Party) arbitrarily for answering questions. I elect to go and watch it in my bedroom.

I am in the Psychology department of Glasgow University. It is approximately three o'clock. I am participating in an experiment whereby another person (unknown to me) and I watch a scary man (a convicted criminal or something) through a video link. At least, that is the first part of the experiment.

In the second part, we have to phone the scary man, and engage him in conversation. The other person goes first. Soon it is my turn to talk. I am not confident about this, for two reasons: (i) I don't like talking on the phone to strangers, and (ii) he is a scary man.

At the same time, I am offered another experiment, following on from the current one. However, by this time, it will be four o'clock, and I have arranged to meet a very good friend.

Eventually, I don't speak to him, and a lot of people come into the room and stare at me without speaking.

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