Tam shares a Jehovah’s Witnesses story.
The nekkid artist answers the door, six feet tall and skeletal, with a wild mane of black hair and a snake hanging around his neck, to find two elderly African-American women wearing their Sunday best…”white gloves and all!” said Byron…standing on the porch wanting to tell him about Jesus.
My own… well, I wasn’t quite nekkid.
I’d gone to bed after a long overnight double shift. I woke to someone pounding rather insistently on my door.
I got up, went to the door, grabbed an… implement.
Shift to visitors’ perspective.
Door flies open to reveal a half-naked six-foot barbarian with bed-head hair and a frickin’ broadsword yelling, “What?!”
They ran off. And it was years before I had another visit from JWs. I think they added me to some sort of self-preservation Do Not Contact list.
An old SCA acquaintance pulled something a bit different. He saw them coming as they worked their way though the apartment complex. He turned off his lights, lit some candles, and pulled on a black hooded cloak (SCA, right?).
He invites them in. “Let me tell you about my lord, Lucifer.”
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My Grandfather got tired of the visits from local churches. One was particularly aggravating and wouldn’t take No for an answer. He answered the door one day and told them “I was born a Baptist, and I was raised a Baptist. You’re not about to make a Christian out of me.” and closed the door. They never came back.
Black tomcat. Jumps into roommate’s arms. “Don’t worry, Mephistopheles, these people won’t hurt you.”