Zeus

Predator Press

[LOBO]

“Of course you don’t feel clean and fresh down there sometimes,” I remark.

The way Terri and Complainy -my wife and teenage daughter respectively- are sitting, holding hands across the table, I immediately have the sense I’m interrupting.

Moving quickly for the fridge, I try to make my ‘snack attack’ quick and precise: the sooner I let them continue in privacy, the better.

“And who could feel clean and fresh down there?” I offer hopefully. “Jesus I doubt that place has been cleaned in ten years. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was bat fecal matter all over the place. Plus must and mildew, mold, and other unidentifiable horrible smells … cobwebs maybe.” I shudder visibly as I select a carrot and shut the refrigerator door. “Oh my god … can you imagine the spiders?”

I turn to see Complainy shriek as she flees for the door, and Terri, elbows still on the table, rest her own shaking head in her hands.

“What?” I says, munching. “Why is she so freaked out about the basement all of the sudden?”

"Baby,” says Terri, exasperated. “Can’t you try and be a little more sensitive when it comes to our children?”

“We tried that,” I says. I spin Complainy's former chair, already askew, backwards to sit. “Remember? It just reminds me how much I don’t like them.”

Suddenly –in mid-chew- I freeze. “Oh my God,” I says, dropping the carrot and grabbing Terri’s hands forcefully.

“Honey,” I whisper, looking around fearfully. “Is the basement haunted?”