THAT's what I'm talking about

Canada's comment to my I-hate-security-system-ads post reminded me of the true story of my friend and neighbor Shellie. (I might have talked about her before, but I can't remember what I called her previously, if anything, so let's make up a new pseudonym, shall we? Blog hazard.)

So. Shellie and her husband get a security system, and they have it set up for motion detection in the basement. This is in the old neighborhood, before they'd finished their basement, and they lived on the end of the street that bumped up against a pretty busy major street, so it seemed like a good plan. One night, the alarm goes off--it's the motion detector in the basement. They both jump up--the babies are crying, the thing's going off, and they're good and freaked. Shellie's husband Tom runs downstairs, and she's right behind him. (She's British so you have to picture this with all happening with an accent.)

"And then," she tells me the next day, "the bloody man picks up a ladle! A soup ladle! I said, 'For God's sake, Tom, what are you going to do? Spoon him to death??!!' And he said, 'Well, you know I don't have very good aim, and this thing's pretty heavy.' So I grabbed a proper knife. What the hell was he thinking? Men. Then the cat ran out of the basement."

Ironically, the next day (after going downstairs the night before and seeing nothing amiss), when they checked the outside of the window, they realized someone really had tried to force it open. Which of them do you think would've kicked the most ass if whoever it was had actually gotten in?