Don't Go In The Basement

It is Sunday night and I just got home.  It is 9:30 and my phone rings.  It is my 82 year old neighbor, Ester, who lives three houses down from me.  She calls me up from time to time, if she has some "simple" home repair needs.  When I answer the phone she says, "Hi Rickie.  Can you do me a favor?  I hear a sound down in my basement, can you come over and check it out?"  I say, "Are you kidding me?  That is how horror movies start."  I walk over and she tells me that she hear a leaking sound like there was a leak in her plumbing.  He basement is dark, like mine used to be with the wood paneling.  I walked around down there and I thought for sure some hockey masked freak was going to come out of a dark corner to kill me.