Had a dream I parked my motorcycle on the side of a street in a seaside village, returned to it shortly thereafter to find a young man seated behind the rear wheel with a pair of pliers, backpack dropped to his side. I struck the would-be thief on the side of the head, felling him to the ground and continued to beat him viciously from above. He was pale-skinned and his belly bloated under his Blue T-shirt, and lie still after my blows. My arms grew weak, so I swung a bag of heavy items (seemed like combination locks) I happened to be carrying onto his listless head. But—and while it's not rare for me to feel during my overnight reveries, perhaps it's this particular sensation that struck me; more so that it stuck after waking—I noticed that the satisfaction of delivering punishment had gone. His hand somehow moved below and activated a message that contained almost testamentary instructions amidst a website-like menu, which left me wondering less about the merits of vengeance than whether it was even safe to attack a criminal armed with tools, or if someone in such a dangerous line of work might guard against a development like this. With maybe a panic button that, pressed or not, would trigger a getaway blast in his bag or call for help.