Picture it. A quiet dark house in the middle of the night. A baby sleeping silently on his Spiderman couch. No lights are on except the warm glow of the television. Before it two very exhausted individuals wishing they didn’t have to watch this weeks American Idol (one of them has to write a recap after it’s over) star at the tube. Not a sound can be heard other than Blake Lewis silently singing “Roxanne” (he wasn’t singing it silently the volume was down. The kid was asleep remember).
Then suddenly a voice is heard coming from the other room!!! It doesn’t register with them at first, but within seconds it draws their attention “ilicrk ilicrk….”, then nothing but silence again. The couple shrugs it off, but not for long “ilicrak ilicrak”. This time they recognize the voice; it’s the baby’s Oscar The Grouch toy sharing the joys of crack rock. “I like craaaack I LIKE CRAAACK!!!!”
The wife panics “That toy doesn’t come on by itself!!! It has to be touched before it talks!!! Go check it out!!” she demands.
The husband starts to head that way, then quickly comes to his senses before leaving the den towards the dark dense play room in which the noise is coming from.
“I ain’t going in there by myself. I’m gonna need a witness in case something goes down”
“What about the baby?” she pleads desperate to keep her spot on the warm safe couch
“Lay the cordless phone next to him. If something happens he’ll wake up, see the phone, start pushing buttons like we always tell him not too but he does anyways. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll hit 911.”
As they creep toward the room where Oscar is still sharing the joys of illegal drugs, the husband boldly peers around the corner and freezes.
“You don’t want to see what’s going on in there!”
“What is it? Is somebody there?”
“It’s too dark to tell, but it looks like we left the front door open and the screen unlocked.”
“Crap. We’re going to have to spend the night in the den. I’ve got the big couch!!”
“It’s worse than that. Apparently Oscar has been hiding something from us….he’s possessed!!”
This the wife had to see. Slowly she came from around her husband, closed one eye (she was to scared to open both) and sure enough before her in the far reaches of the family room near the opened door, there in the pitch blackness sat the Oscar toy flashing red as if possessed by the devil.
“What’s the plan?” she asked
“You’re the husband. How are you going to get your family out of this safely?!”
“I could throw my debit card into the middle of the room?”
“What’s that going to do?”
“We go back to watching Idol, wait an hour, when we come back if it’s still there we didn’t have a burglar; if it’s gone we did and he took what he wanted.”
“I’ve got a better plan. How about I push your yellow butt in there and if you scream the baby and I will run out the back door, across the yard, and keep running till we make it to my daddy’s house?”
“Fine, but don’t be mad if I’m sitting in my underwear watching a Jet Li movie when the police show up to survey the crime scene.”