“Well,” he started, “I got done about ten minutes ago, and what I’m watching here is a little bit of a mystery to me. But it reminds me of a song I’ll sing for you, Tranquilla. Here we go – meep meep! ‘Pull my string, and I’ll wink for you, I’m your puppet. I’ll do anything that you want me to, I’m your puppet – meep-meep!’”
The only place left was the kitchen, at the far end of the apartment. I hesitated for only a moment, and then reached over to grab a long umbrella with a spear tip out of a canister in the entry. I held it out in front of me like a bayonet, and crab-walked fast on tiptoe across the hardwood floor like a fencer, or a scorpion. My killer instinct, adrenalin laced with stupidity, was in full overdrive, and I believed, somewhere in the animal part of my brain, that I could impale the intruder on my little umbrella, rendering him incapable of ever scaring anyone again.