Dark Night

It was a dark and stormy night. The full moon was completely blotted out by the turbulent stormed tossed cloud layer. The sort of night that people refer to as a good night for a murder, which superstitious folk believe that ghosts walk and graves are opened.

On a lonely country road, far from the city lights, in an isolated farmhouse, a woman guest cries out “Lookout! He’s got the knife!” There is a loud scream. Another woman expostulates “George! George! How many times have I told you to let me carve the Turkey! You always cut yourself!”