Axe a Question
When my younger sister was in high school, she invited a large group of young ladies to a sleepover. My older brother and I went out to give them the run of the house and to be out of their hair.
I don’t recall where we went, but when we returned it was late. We parked the car and without a word went into the garage to fetch a couple of axes. I swear to you that we did not plan this in advance. It just made sense.
Into the house. We begin to limp dramatically forward – axes held menacingly upward. We horror-stumbled through the living room. We zombie-ambled through the dining room.
The ladies had all piled into the sunporch to do high school sleepover young lady stuff. All except one young lady who had fallen asleep in the dining room just outside the glass doors to the sunroom.
We moved forward. We moaned. We raised the axes and brought them down again and again sort of vaguely in the direction of the sleeping figure. And we were seen. All at once. The scream was piercing. Deafening. Terrified cacophonous dissonant screeches of pure terror. Glorious.
Our parents rushed downstairs in their pajamas. My sister and her friends were laughing uncontrollably by the time they reached us. “Do it again!” some shouted.
Which left our poor parents trying desperately to keep smiles from wiping stern disapproval from their faces. “Don’t you!” my mother tried to teach us something, “Try to pretend to kill your sister with an axe!” 10/10. Would do it again. Story credit: Reddit / TokyoCalling