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Sometimes when our parents went out to dinner, Tiffany and I would arm ourselves with weapons.  One could never be too careful, you know.  So, we took the metal rods down from the roof of her canopy bed, to be used in the karate-style chopping and stabbing of intruders; we also had her older sister’s aerosol hairspray, good for blinding the same.  Bob had broken into her house once and had been caught by her father.  He’d been rummaging though the kitchen pantry; it seemed Bob was always eating something.  After that, her family installed an alarm system.