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Purile pranks at midnight

So I got home from a lovely walk to the store with Darth othercat (who is now my co-worker) for cherries, and I was peaceably getting the cherries washed, when --


on the front door.

This being Phoenix, and near enough to midnight, I peered out through the spyhole, not knowing what I'd see -- a friend bleeding, a stranger bleeding, a cop (it was that sort of bang, the sort that means someone's near to dying) -- and instead saw the tail end of some asshat running away.

About 5'4" to 5'7", plump, probably male, wearing a light shirt, dark short hair.

Infuriated, I threw open the door and shrieked a few choice samples of invective at a person matching that description hastily shoving his ass through the door of none other but the apartment next door.

Damn straight I'm heading to the office in the morning. And if this happens again, we're calling the cops.

As I was learning to breathe again, my roommates (adults only) come boiling out of the other bedroom, armed for bear. Once that they'd learned that I hadn't been attacked or murdered, I got roundly scolded for scaring them like that. marxdarx pointed out that I hadn't exactly been in a position for a response with my whole head either.

Office. Morning. Tomorrow.

And Darkside, thereafter. He's usually the one who winds up defusing the Lunatic, especially once garnetdagger's come out.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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