You’re wandering through your grandmother’s woods on a seemingly typical summer day, but something seems to be a bit off. There are no birds singing, or squirrels scurrying through the treetops. The familiar scent of pine has been replaced with a sickly pungent smell, and even the breeze through the trees seems to be absent.
Suddenly he’s standing there before you: your Uncle Finster. He’s clutching a hatchet and glaring at you with a look of pure malevolence. And it’s not the look of pure malevolence that normally adorns his face, but something even more sinister.
“What are you going to do with that hatchet?” You ask trepidatiously, guessing you don’t want to know the answer.
“What do you think I’m going to do with it?” He responds with a snort through his crooked nose.
“I think you’re going to try to kill me with it.”
“Of course I’m going to kill you with it,” he cackles, “but do you know why I’m going to kill you with it?”
“It just seems like the type of thing you’d do,” you tell him matter-of-factly.
“I don’t know…because that’s a new shirt and it isn’t sufficiently blood stained yet?”
You sigh. “Just tell me.”
“You forgot the marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate bars,” he screams at you. “it was the big family reunion, and you forgot the marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate bars.”
“First: Why can’t you just say s’mores?” You say in exasperation. “Second: I brought them. I put them on the picnic table exactly where I said I put them.”
“Do you expect me to believe that marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate bars just disappeared into thin air?”
“My expectations for you are slight in virtually every area of life, Uncle Finster.”
“What you can expect, is for me to teach you a lesson about forgetting the marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate bars, with this business end of this hatchet.”
Your Uncle Finster lets loose a bloodcurdling scream and charges you, swinging the hatchet at your head.
You jerk awake to realize it was all just a bizarre dream…or was it a premonition.
You’d better make certain you bring all the fixings for s’mores to the big family reunion, because you have an Uncle Finster, and he has a hatchet.