A door opened in the side and motty came out and invited me in. He explained his cunning plan: he planned to take over this prime chunk of London real estate by exploiting squatter's rights in conjunction with the law (this is dream legislation of course) that says the police can't interfere with any busking until the end of the current song. Squatter's rights say that you own the land your building is on if you inhabit it for 20 years non stop. His plan was therefore to play a single song extremely slowly, so that it lasts for just over 20 years, during which time he would be immune from the law.

We went to the top of the guitar and I saw the strings were as thick as ship's ropes, and some other Hussites were sitting on deck chairs placed on the fret board in order to select a note. I joined them and we sat around drinking Pimm's and beer.

Suddenly motty got terribly excited and announced that we had to change to an F major chord in half an hour, and that we needed 9 people (6 for the barre and 3 for the other fingers (no I don't know why the barre needed to be fretted through. Dream logic)) but we were missing some. So we all started phoning people up and asking them to help us out. Then Maggie Thatcher turned up and kept looking at her watch, clearly waiting for us to fail, but we got all the helpers together at the last minute and dragged our deckchairs around to fret the new chord. Then motty rode over the strings with a bicycle to make them sound.

I woke up after that.