Growing up, whenever my parents left the house, the first thing I would do is down half a bottle of orange-flavored chewable aspirins, chug a little vanilla extract and then chase my younger brother around the house with a loaded BB gun.
Luckily, somewhere around high school, I went down a different, more positive road—thanks, D.A.R.E.!—putting the BB gun and St. Joseph’s down and picking up the Cure's Disintegration and a pack of cloves instead.