Resume Dream Please

The grass was scattered with money. Hundreds and hundreds of notes. I joined my two cohorts, scrambling around on the ground to collect in as much cold hard cash as possible. A tiny wind was blowing, but nothing to take my mind off the prize that would await.
I became suddenly aware of helicopters wailing overhead, and within seconds the great metal birds had touched down on either side of me. I looked up and into the distance to see the burning red tail lights of my companion's Land Rover already disappearing over a far off hill. Bastards. They had run to save their own skins and left me alone to face the guns. Masked and machine gun swathed men all in black leapt down from the helicopters, their weapons pointed right at me. Thinking that it was their money I had been picking up, I threw my hands towards the sky.
"Don't shoot!" I said with cliche abandon. But shoot they did not.
"The pack!" one of the masked man yelled. I looked over at the army green backpack on the ground. "The jacket!" he yelled again. I looked over at the green bag once more. "A blue coated key in the left pocket," the man said, gun still pointed at me, his boots still not moving, "serial number 2 - 2 - 9." And with that, back into his helicopter he stepped and back into the new sky they soared. I looked over at the lonely backpack on the ground.
And then I woke up.
These are the final remnants of last night's dream. The overwhelming feeling that persisted in me was this: "wouldn't it be great to have a RESUME button in your dreams?"
I mean, I was pretty excited to see what happened next when I pulled that blue coated key out of the jacket pocket. And I was pretty pissed off to not have the opportunity to do so. It would be amazing to be able to drop back into sleep the next night after just such an occurrence, and then pick it all back up from where you left off from. I think I'd pay for one of those "RESUME" buttons. I really think I would. S.H.