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I'm am englishman from Canada visiting America. I'm picking up drunk girls but they're wild and keep getting arrested. I get arrested too. We get quick processed in a parking lot. Some are released with a warning, the innocent looking girls and me. Others are caught and fined for whatever. Their liscences are suspended. A cute carmel colored girl is passing out misinformation and gets arrested for that they let her go and she's doing it again in the same parking lot. I stop her and help her clean up the evidence. I'm doing this all night. I take their picture and it gets used as evidence. I am telling this girl I'll delete it. She's wearing a minimal evening gown, sparkling gold. The police interview me but they like me. I end up telling them, "I was told Americans are a bunch of criminals and I suppose it was true." I start talking to Trey Parker from South park. He sounds a little like Mr. Garrison. I tell him I love South Park but I can't remember the name I call it house park. His eyes light up but then I say I haven't seen one since around 2012. He's heartbroken. Apparently the show is going down in popularity. I ask, is it asymptoting to a number of diehard fans? Yeah, he says angrily. I say, that's how it goes. Then the team of people catching those comming crimes have a lasso net and they catch even car tires. A guy in a giant van comes through. The lasso net only slows him down so they take the tire off his rear driver side. The parking lot is now mud and he sinks in then the van falls on its side. They right it but it's half burried. No sex with scantily clad women, I wasn't in the mood in the dream. The girl of interest was cuter, younger, and her dress was smaller and had gold sparkles.