Setting: bowling alley. Seven other folks and myself are walking from the office to the floor, trying to figure out how to get the money to get ourselves out of the predicament. The group sullenly agrees that bounty-hunting (or something like that) is what we're going to have to do to come up with the sort of money we need quickly.
Another person who I get the impression is my brother walks in from a side room. "How many hits are you going to need to do to get us clear?"
I calculate the answer in my head. Physical strength is not my forte. "Ten should do. A million one, five hundred."
"And how long is that going to take?" While I'm calculating that, goons bust in the main doors. My brother shrugs and says, "This way is quicker." I'm running for my life. They've got all sorts of crazy weapons, mostly guns. As I'm running for an exit, the bowling alley transforms into a football field surrounded by chainlink/barbed wire/razor wire. The ground is muddy and pretty quickly there's confusion as to who is who on the battlefield.
I'm cornered and captured and tossed against some shelves by the fence door. A person comes by me, switches weapons and drops their uzi next to me. Apparently I'm no threat, or they don't realize I'm not one of theirs. My hands and feet are bound but I manage to sneak the uzi from the ground to behind my back, between myself and the shelves.
Eventually, the guy in charge of the gang (gang is a mite too tame of a word... more like a gang crossed with military training) raiding us comes by and I see my chance to take him out. Unfortunately, the person next to me is on his side and realizes what must (with my body contorted trying to get the uzi to a usable position) be happening. As soon as I realize that he realizes, I start disassociating myself from the uzi, tossing it to my right and dodging to my left. A large sniper's round plummets into the ground where I'd been sitting. I lay perfectly still.
The leader picks me up and sets me back where I had been sitting. He's chuckling. He takes what looks like a roll of masking tape and uses its edge to sear a circle (which he dubs a "bite") into my leather in honor of my "dodging a bullet", and goes off to deal with other matters.
The guy to my right starts examining the "bite" and shows off some of his, as well as some "teeth marks", which are just points riding up the side of the bites. Behind him, someone sneaks out from under the fence and runs away unnoticed.
I shrug to myself, grit my teeth, loose my bonds (which are amazingly loose, apparently from some green glowing slime that's been mixed in with the mud). I realize half the people there are green and glowing from bits of slime. In any case, I pop my bonds and try to slip under the fence right next to me. No go, and now I'm getting worried. Biting my tongue, I open the fence, which creaks, and run for it. At the creak, the guy who turned me in for having the uzi starts shouting that I'm escaping.
I run straight but figure they've got vehicles and they'll catch me on a straight-away. I hop a fence into a large suburban backyward complete with miniature farmer's garden. I can keep hopping back and forth, or make a dash for it now, I figure. Then it occurs to me from a part of consciousness that isn't mine: the green glowing stuff will let me transform, shapeshift. I become a dirty brown, trampled floormat on the stairs out the back of the house. I'm still glowing green in bits, but those have been "melted" to my underside.
I wake up.