It's late at night. I really should be in bed. But, I'm sitting on the windowsill in my kitchen with some roommates, just talking. Suddenly there is a huge thump on the window. At first, we ignore it. There are crabapples all over Heritage and the boys in my ward love to throw them at our windows--real mature, I know. But, the thumping gets louder and more persistent. Finally, I stand up and pull up the blinds.
And there it is: a severed head.
There is a severed head outside my window. How am I supposed to process this? It's not exactly a normal occurrence. Someone has taken the head of a mannequin, painted the base of its neck with stage blood, and stuck it on a pole. And now it is moving across the outer ledge of my kitchen window.
Julie and Sarah jump back in alarm. Katy steps into the kitchen, and immediately runs out: "Oh! My! Gosh! AHHHHH!" She is just a little freaked out. While Katy is under her bed trying to prevent herself from hyperventilating, I open the window.
"Nice job guys. That was really clever. You scared one of us. Wow. I'm impressed." The guy standing at the base of the window walks away looking like the sheepish idiot that he is. About two hundred people (okay, maybe less) are hiding behind the dumpster and recycling bins, and they all look just as disappointed as the kid who actually had the nerve to hold up the head. That'll teach them to act stupid when they should be asleep or doing homework.
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