You quickly make your way downstairs with the intent of confronting this stranger. As you open up your front door and step onto the front yard, the stranger hears you and stands to face you. The look in his eyes is manic, his pupils dilated to devour any incoming light in the cold night. The streetlight innocuously shines in the background of the scene. You notice the package lying next to the stranger's feet. It is in bad repair and seems to have been through a stressful journey to your house. You call out to the stranger from your front door, "Hey you! What the hell are you doing on my lawn?" The stranger is silent, unmoving and stoic. "Hey! Did you hear me? I SAID, What the HELL are you doing on my lawn?" And then, with the quickness of a heartbeat, and before you can move a muscle, the stranger...
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