Son, I’m trying my best not to lose my temper here, but it’s tough when there’s a hole the size of a Ford Taurus in our roof and no logical explanation for how it got there. So I’ll ask you one more time, and don’t give me any more of that witch crap. What the fuck happened to our house?
As far as your mother and I are concerned, last night was a perfectly normal Halloween night in Salem. The weather was chilly but calm. There were no tornadoes, or blizzards, or even a drop of rain. So imagine our surprise when, after spending the night dancing at that wicked good party at City Hall, we walk back home in the morning only to look up at our humble abode and see a big-ass gap where the crow’s nest used to be.
Admittedly, it was irresponsible to leave you kids unattended all night. But in our defense, after those three ladies sang that bangin’ rendition of Screamin’ Jay Hawkins’s “I Put a Spell on You,” the party really kicked into high gear, and we couldn’t tear ourselves away no matter how hard we tried. Besides, can you really blame us for wanting to have a night out to ourselves for once?