Something really weird happened today. I got home from the gas station and my front door was wide open. I grabbed my gun out of the glove box and slowly entered the house. I checked every room, but nobody was there and nothing was missing. The only sound was emanating from my laptop, where the Mr. Hands video was playing on loop. The abode echoed with the sounds of the horse grunting, Kenneth Pinyan whimpering, and James Michael Tait crying out “did he come? Did he come?”
