The final part of the dream was about some game which was a first-person perspective along the lines of Carmageddon or some other along the Smash TV / Total Carnage axis. The male dream protagonist (identifiably not me, though I viewed the dream from his perspective) was driving a car along a series of indoor corridors. Sometimes the corridors narrowed on one side or the other, sometimes they curved round to the "this movement feels awkward to make" extent you sometimes feel in dreams. There may have been some running over of abstract, Quake-style monsters involved. The protagonist ran out of fuel and lost a life a couple of times, but carried on without any problems.
Eventually the protagonist reached what was an identifiable end of the level and moved to another room for the next level. I'm slightly vague as to whether the second level was on foot or in a car, but it broadly felt very similar. A crucial part of it was a complex maze that was clearly so complicated that you weren't meant to be able to practically go through it - instead, the protagonist went around it. In going around it, the protagonist ran out of fuel/energy once again, but just before he died, he received some advice from some other source (might have been someone who had materialised in the car[?] alongside him) that he was only playing a game and that it didn't matter that he was about to die, because he was about to be reborn and could continue the game. There was a little more to it than that - I think there were a few gratuitous mentions of, or allusions to, The Matrix in there as well.
Anyway, the final bit of energy was lost and the image faded to black. It picked back up again and the protagonist restarted exactly where he died, to great cheers. Something pulled past him from behind though and he readied to shoot it or dispose of it, but it turned out to be his (not my!) real-world parents, grinning and waving, plus a grandmother in a wheelchair. At this point he perceived he was trapped in the game world for real and started crying. Then I woke up.
It doesn't make a lot of sense, but then again it doesn't have to - it's a dream, after all. One of my friends claims never to remember his dreams, which I think is a terribly unfortunate facet of life that he's missing out on. I would rather lose a finger than lose my ability to remember the one spectacular dream I have every month or two. (They're all very trivial; I haven't received any important life messages or communications from higher powers through my dreams, though a friend claims he has and has made some important lifestyle decisions as a result.) Sometimes I get nightmares, too, alas, but thankfully only a couple per year. However, when they happen, they really put a gloom over my day. I probably should work out some way not to care about them so much when they occur.