The Scary, Creaky Door
Hello everybody, my name is David. I am a man and I live in a house with windows and doors. I have a wife and child. When people ask me "Hey, did you catch the game last night?" I reply; "Yes."
Now you may remember how I mentioned that I live in a house with doors. One of the doors is very creaky, on its hinges. When you open, or close, the door, it makes a creaky noise like "uuuurrgggghhhh?" Like one you see in the scary movies, as if maybe someone sinister is opening it. It goes up at the end almost as if asking a question. A question like "Are you afraid?"
I am afraid, Mr Door. I am.
"David, that door is still creaking and it's pissing me off." Said my wife Barbara to me one day. "I thought I told you to oil it."
"I did oil it, Barbara. I did oil it, and it still creaks."
Barbara looked at me, not fully understanding the horror of the situation.
"Have you tried tightening the hinges?"
"I've tried everything Barbara, but it still creaks. It still creaks!" I screamed in Barbara's face.
Just at that very moment the door began to creak. It began to move seemingly by itself, emitting that terrifying creaking sound. I began to empty my bowels, wondering in complete existential dread who would be on the other side of the door, causing it to creak in such a scary way. You'd think not knowing would be more scary than any possible reality, but that wasn't the case.
When the door finally opened behind that door was another creaky door, even creakier than the last!
"Oh, Barbara. Nooo!" I screamed cupping my ears with my hands to try and hide from the incandescent noise. "Why did we buy a house with such an excessive number of creaky doors!?"
I looked to Barbara for some form of comfort only to notice that she too was a door. She lay there flat in bed, creaking in such a way as to say "Are you afraid David? Are you afraid of the creaky door?"
And I was afraid.
If I hadn't done so already, I would have crapped my pants. But I didn't need to go. I didn't need to go.
Credited to koalazeus
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