Entertaining nightmare

    Anyway, it was as entertaining as a nightmare could be that started with a murder-suicide. There was this murder-suicide. For some reason, I was going to inherit the perpetrator's house. For some other reason, the house had a basement that was larger than the house itself, another house entirely in fact. For some other other reason, the basement was boobytrapped with bombs and we didn't know where or what the bombs were. ("We" being me and the police, who tended to appear and disappear as if it were a dream or something.)
    For some other (OK, you get the gag) reason, the basement had a door that opened straight to the back yard. I found a bag that was ticking and decided it would be safest to hustle it out to the backyard. Being kind, careful, and solicitous of the safety of my neighbors, I hid it in some brush. The neighbors saw me, and curious about the basement that they apparently had never visited before, all came to see. All of them, in their hundreds. The basement, which had previously been like a fairly normal house, transmogrified into warehouse dimensions. I got worried about the risk to them and felt bad about the bomb in the brush and told them the place was boobytrapped. I also got the police to take care of the ticking thing in the backyard. We all presumably lived happily ever after.