Samanthaâs morning started out all wrong. Oversleeping meant she had to spring out of the bed and frantically put herself together in order to get to the TV station on time for work. âWhy didnât you wake me up?â she yelled to her husband as he dragged himself to the bathroom.
He shrugged his shoulders. âSorry, you looked so peaceful.â
On top of everything else, strange-sounding loud music leaked into their bedroom. She scrambled around, searing for a source. âWhere is that from?â she asked him.
âSounds like tribal rhythms - maybe from Polynesia or something.â
âThank you very much, Mister professor of anthropology. That wasnât what I meant. I meant where is that sound coming from?â
Slipping into his suit, he shrugged. âMight be that new guy that moved in a few days ago.â
âHoney, can you go over there and talk to him about it? He needs to understand that this is a nice, quiet neighborhood, and we donât do that kind of thing here.â
âLetâs not rock the boat, Sam.â
âPhil, I know itâs awkward to have a talk with your new neighbors about -â
But before she could finish, he was halfway out the door. âSorry, got to get to work. Bye-bye.â
After an exasperated sigh, Samantha pulled herself together and walked to her next-door neighborâs home.
The house looked like every other house in the suburban neighborhood - tastefully decorated, but not too flamboyant. She rang the doorbell and waited.
But the wait lasted a while. Nobody answered the door despite the noises continuing inside. Soon the noises not only went on, they intensified. She heard loud laughter, glasses clanging together, even the cracking of a whip.