Does any of this sound familiar?:
“C’mon, Steve. It’s just an old house. Let’s go inside. What are you—chicken?”
“Don’t worry, Brenda. No one will find us out here. We have all night to do whatever we want. So come a little closer, will ya?”
“It’s just a book, Rick. No harm ever came from reading a book.”
“Golly, Diane. Put your hands on the planchette, already. It’s just a game.”
“All weekend at a cabin in the middle of nowhere. Sigh… Doesn’t that sound relaxing, hon?”
“Alright, lights are off. Now all we do is hold hands and say her name three times. You’re not scared of Bloody Mary are you? Woo-ooo-ooo!!”
That’s a little something you stupid mortals call peer pressure. And when you fall for it—which is pretty much every time, you truly stupid creatures—it’s a little something we call “doing our job for us.”
Thanks for being our wingman, Brad.
