The Thing - Part Two (Revenge)

My brother scared me, yelling "kitty" like some deranged monkey...that knew how to say words like "kitty" or "vegemite" but only while shouting. You should have read about it last week.

I began plotting my revenge. The scary movie marathon continued for several more days. That gave me plenty of time to manage a scare. I didn't sit down and diagram out my scheme. That might have turned out better. I'll do that next time.

I came home a little later from work another night. I heard the tv on in the other room, so I peaked around the corner.

He was obviously watching a scary movie. I thought this was my chance. I can jump out and scare him, but, as I spied on him and prepared myself for the scare, he started muttering to himself and pulled out the remote to turn the movie off. I don't know if it proved to be too scary for him or he finished it.

I sprinted silently down the hallway, like the ninja that I am. I jumped in his closet and piled clothes, trash, whatever was in there on top of myself. This was going to be good.

Mark came in a moment later.

I sat still, monitored my breathing, and thought about what I could do to scare him.

I could just scream really loud.

Or maybe crawl out once he's in bed and grab his foot and scream.

Or I could make a strange noise and make him come to me to investigate.

Then I would rise up in my debris mound like the trash heap from fraggle rock. That thing freaked me out. I figured it would do the same for my brother.

The thing about waiting to scare someone is you bottle up a lot of tension. You have to wind yourself up to the point of breaking, ready to move at lighting speed and scream at decibels you find uncomfortable. As I imagined what I might look like as I rose to my brother's horror. I thought he would pee his pants and scream like a little girl, but...

...the image proved too much for me and all that bundled tension. I burst out laughing. I immediately clapped my hand over my mouth.

Oh no! What had I done? The scare was ruined. I blew it. What a waste, right?

Well, not quite.

Seems a mad cackling laugh from your dark closet after watching scary movies for a week straight is just as horrifying as anything I had thought of.

He screamed, pulled me giggling from the closet, and dumped me out side his door.

I don't think I've scared him better.

The Thing! - Part One

My older brother hates scary movies. He curls up in a ball and half hides from them under the security of a warm blankie. They give him nightmares for weeks. None of this stops him from watching them though. He has a strange addiction.

The other day a scary trailer played before our movie at the theater. He leaned over to me and shuddered. "Not going to watch that one!"

I laughed. I knew he probably would. He'd also drag someone else along to share in the terror as though companionship actually helps him. It doesn't.

That's just the way he is.

I worked at a grocery store while in high school. I would often come home after a late shift bagging and chasing carts around the parking lot and find some member of my family hanging out downstairs, watching tv. One week a channel had a monster movie marathon. I came home day after day to find my older brother balled up on the couch with a blanket just under his nose.

Yes, we did have a huge ugly green sectional and a large wooden entertainment center. My brother often claimed the corner as the blue light of horror washed over him. He would look up when I walked in, pat the couch next to him, and mutter something through his fluffy shield. "Watch. Scary. Sit. Watch."

I would usually sigh, then sit, and watch the rest of whatever nightmare fuel happened to be on.

I've mentioned before that few things scare me and that I like to scare others. Movies just make me laugh. This evening my brother had elected The Thing as his drug of choice. It wasn't that scary, but it did have this crazy scene where an alien in the form of a dog assimilates several other dogs. One of the actors turns a flamethrower on the creature and you can imagine the mess. Not pretty and horrifying in a not so scary way.

The movie ended and my brother remained near comatose behind his blankie, shivering, twitching, and muttering to himself.

"Shouldn't have watched that. Not gonna sleep. Icky dog thing."

I stood up and turned on the light. The switch sat right next to the entertainment center and a dark hallway. Now, I can count on my fingers the number of times I have been scared enough to jump. This is one of them...in slow motion for your entertainment.

I did not kick the kitty, so you know. That is me half jumping away.

I know. Not that scary. In my defence that was not our kitty! It could have been some mutant from outer space intent on assimilating me and using my husk as a disguise while spreading its invasive self around the globe. You don't know!

And what is wrong with my brother? Who yells "kitty" like the zombiepocalypse has begun and I happen to be standing right next to a mindless biting corpse? I didn't even understand him. My ears could not decipher the terrifying scream. My reality blurred into sudden light, blinking, a horrible noise issuing from my brother's mouth, pointing, some unknown black thing moving inches from my leg, recoiling from the evil beast before it could consume my soul. So, yeah, I jumped. Do you blame me?

The poor kitty ran for it, probably more confused and terrified than any of us.

My brother laughed at me. At me! I started plotting my revenge right then...and my revenge would be epic, dear brother, epic! You shall see! You shall wade in the epicness of my revenge! But that will be next week's post.