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Help! One of My Mom’s Friends Said “Save Some for Me!” When I Posted a Picture of My Dinner Online, But Now it’s 3 a.m. and She’s Standing On My Front Lawn With a Tupperware and a Hungry Look in Her Eyes

Are you a fan of the home invasion horror subgenre? Because I think I’m living in a straight-to-streaming B-movie nightmare as I type out what may very well be my last entry. It all started this afternoon when I posted a picture of my Chinese takeout on Instagram. My mom’s friend, Susan, was the first to comment with “SAVE SOME FOR ME!” in all caps with one of those old-school colon-dash-parenthesis emoticons of yesteryears.

Jokingly, and in good faith, I told Susan, “Come on over, there’s plenty to go around ;-p,” and it now seems that she has taken me up on my offer. I thought nothing of it when I typed out my playful invitation. That is until I fell asleep on the couch and was woken up by my dog pawing at the window in distress. I peered sleepily through the front window, and there was Susan, with a crazed look in her eyes, wearing a plastic lobster bib and holding a single-use fork and knife.

I slowly returned the blinds to their closed position, but her ravenous gaze locked onto my subtle, but not quite subtle enough movement. She hungrily bellowed, “I hope you saved me an egg roll!” I quickly crawled over to the front door to confirm that the deadbolt was locked. When I parted the blinds once more, her steamy, impatient breath was already fogging up the window and her eyes, now level with my own, were glowing crimson. She tapped her plastic fork on the window and monotonously said, “sweetie, please open up… I’m just taking you up on your offer. I won’t be a bother, I promise.”

Shutting the blinds once more, I reached for the landline because my cell phone was on the charger upstairs. And wouldn’t you know it…the line was cut. Whether Susan cut through the wire with her plastic knife, or simply gnawed through it is up for debate, but given the crazed look in her eyes, I’m assuming the latter.

As I sat on the floor collecting my thoughts, her hand burst through the mail slot clutching a moist towelette. I swatted at her hand as hard as humanly possible and her voice pitched down at least three octaves before letting out the most ungodly shriek I have ever heard in my life. She scampered off into the darkness like a wounded gazelle, but I know she’s still out there lurking, waiting for me to show a moment of weakness. Waiting for me to let my guard down.

I’m typing this on a Google Doc so it automatically uploads to the cloud just in case anything happens to me. I don’t know what Susan is capable of. She always seemed like a nice lady, but now I’m not so –

What was that?

It sounded like my upstairs window just slid open. I need to grab a baseball bat or a shovel from the garage before it’s too late. I fear for my life. More importantly, I fear for my leftovers. I really couldn’t afford to get takeout in the first place, and the General Tso’s Chicken that’s congealing in my fridge has to at least get me through lunch tomorrow. If I don’t live through this, please heed my advice, and don’t ever, under any circumstances post a pic–