She tells Mulder, and they quickly agree that someone must be trying to frame her. They've used her gun to prepare a bullet that will look like she shot it; they'll then use it to kill someone, or something like that. But pulling it off requires enormous precision, the ability to shoot something the size of a pencil eraser. They go down to the only guy known who could do it, a geeky-looking 20-year-old. He explains to them how it would be done (accompanied by illustrations of the pencil eraser).
As I go to drive them away, I'm recovering my flashlight from under their car, which is a VW Rabbit. They ask if this is what I normally drive and I explain that no, I normally drive something much larger.
I'm driving down the highway, with Dad and Sandy in the back. I'm going faster and faster, but I am increasingly certain that I'm going backwards down the highway. Dad is trying to reassure me, but I'm freaking out -- I can see the trees at the side of the road going in the wrong direction. I wrench the car off the highway, onto the left embankment, my heart racing. Dad assures me that the sensation of going backwards is completely normal when you are driving at faster-than-light speeds.
And now I'm completely freaked out. I'm running down the hallway, thinking to myself, "They've got FTL travel!" I am closing each set of accordion doors as I pass them, in an attempt to slow the cars down. But I know that this is the ultimate case of never hearing the bullet that gets you -- if a car should come along while I'm in the hallway, it'll run me over and kill me before I can even see it.
Finally, I get to the end of the hallway. I calm down a little as I sit down at the computer and prepare to write a complaint about the dangers of FTL driving.
Edit: Oops. This was, of course, supposed to have been posted in bouncing, my dream diary. The dangers of posting in the middle of the night. Oh, well -- consider it a medium-grade taste of what that diary is like...