“Cam, it would have been more polite to come in after knocking on the door.” Ginga rebuked her husband, as she stared at the sharp, cold-iron weapon in John’s hand. “We could have turned on a light, too.”
“My love,” Cam replied, suddenly concerned for their safety, “you might have a point there. I forget that we’re not dealing with Duke and his family.”
“No, you’re dealing with me, and you’ve come into my home without an invitation.” John said. “You’re breaking the law, and I’m within my rights to defend myself.”
Cam got up from John’s futon couch, and held his hands up, palms facing out.
“Please allow me to offer our apologies for entering uninvited. We mean you no harm, future son-in-law. We just wanted to talk to you and get to know you better.”
“Sir, that is a crock of shit.” John said in the flattest, coldest tone of voice he could manage.
“Cam, just sit back down. This is his home, and he should approach this intrusion in whatever way he feels it deserves. It is his right.”
“Ginga, we put on clothes to come talk to him. That has to count for something.”
“Sit down and close your mouth, husband.” She grabbed him by the belt and pulled him back to the futon couch. “Let the young man say what he needs to say.”
“Could you flick the switch on the wall to your right?”
The lights came on and everyone yowled. John wasn’t an eco-freak, but he did like compact LED light bulbs. They were energy efficient, and bright… if painfully brilliant, when switched on in the dark.
“Was that part of your revenge for our surprise visit?” Cam growled.
“No,” John answered while wiping tears out of his eyes, “that was part of my own stupidity for not turning on a light when I came home.”