Anyway, my wife and kids are out of town for a few days. And that leaves me in an empty, depressing house while they're away. And I don't like life without my wife and kids. One of the really awesome perks of having a family is that you don't have to sit in a dark house alone all the time. And another perk is that when your family is around, little weird noises don't freak you out. They're easily explained.
Well yesterday, I came home from work to my sad, empty house. I changed clothes and used the restroom like normal, but when I came out of the bathroom I heard a noise down the hall. I knew I hadn't turned the TV on when I walked in, so it confused me. I followed the noise down the hall and realized it was coming from my kids' playroom. So I opened the door and found that one of their toys (pictured below) was giggling and playing music.
And my older brother dragged me to enough scary movies to know that if a child's toy starts making noise by itself for no obvious reason, the toy will most likely attempt to kill you. So I did what any future victim of a possessed toy would do. I turned off the toy, frowned slightly, and said "hmm." Then I shrugged and walked out of the room. If I'm gonna die, I might as well play along.
So if this is the last you hear from me, make sure that M. Night Shyamalan writes the screenplay about what happened to me… and not Wes Craven.
1 comment:
I am going to try not to gush here... but, seriously I look forward to your posts as much as I look forward to cake wrecks. I can always expect good clean humor from you. Thanks!
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