User blog comment:NightFreak/Try to scare me if you Dare/@comment-416605-20100422142720

You're alone at home, watching TV. You flick through the channels, when suddenly there's a knock at your door. A chill slithers through your spine, sending your brain on high alert of the ominous knocking. You slowly get up from your sofa, forehead starting to sweat. You go out into the hallway, gulping at the sense of dread that has overtaken you. You creep up silently to the peep hole in your door and see the sight that has haunted your nightmares for days. You know there's no escape from the men standing outside, invoking a sense of fear from all your neighbours that pass them. Finally, you put your hand on the doorknob. It is slippery when you turn from the sweat on your plams and finally you open the door, facing these men in their black funeral home suits.

They say, "Hello, we're the IRS. We've come to collect the three million dollars you're over-due on."

You die.