I was in a math class. And we were all handed a test composed of 'math puzzles'. And...

I could not do A SINGLE ONE! I was filled with confusion and dismay and panic.

One of them had something to do with finding the fifth power of 11. I scribbled on the page, but all the numbers just went wonky. At this point, we leave the dream proper, and venture into fictional reconstruction of brain-states.

And then... the math part of my brain shouted to the gibbering-in-fear dreaming hindbrain, "Hey, dummy, the powers of 11 are totally related to Pascal's Triangle."

Hindbrain: gibbers

Mathbrain: "Here, let me handle this. So we're looking at the fifth row, so that's 1-5-10-10-5-1. Uh-oh, there's some carrying to be done."

The mathbrain checks the current status of the Meat Difference Engine. Its fires have been stoked back for the night, and only a few gears are listlessly turning. The mathbrain shouts into the tube to the engine room, "More power."

Engine Room: "We cannae do tha. He'll come awake!"

Mathbrain: "MORE POWER!"

The Engine Room Attendant puts a few more zebras and unicorns on the treadmills running the Meat Difference Engine. Lights start coming on in formerly quiescent portions of the skull.

Mike wakes up, mumbling "161051".