"The ODIN incident"
I live on the ground floor of a 3 - decker in an interesting neighborhood. Drug dealers live next doors on one side of me, and a Reverend on the other side, Catholic chruch across the street. I have a great cross section of humanity wandering through the area.
The city, I've heard from cops my family knows, has also been having a rash of break - ins, courtesy of a few gangs, so I make sure I keep aware and prepared.
Maybe a little TOO prepared, as aside from the knife under the pillow, I also keep a tomahawk and self-made trench spike on hand next to my bed. (No sword, no hope of using it close quarters if I'm supprised in bed. Rest of the house has hidden goodies too. No decorative peices.)
One night, I'm woken up by a crash from another room, my mind races into action, and I do the only logical thing.
First, these folks may only break in if they expect an easy mark. Suprise them. I Yell "OOOODIN!!" at the top of my lungs, while leaping up and collecting my tools.
I fly out towards the direction of teh noise, (sans - pance), heavily armed.
A quick look confirms the doors are intact.
Windows are good...rest of the house is secure and empty....
A bass guitar bag full of bokken fell over, that was the noise.
I had a beer and went back to bed.
The upstairs housemates moved out a week later. TOTALLY unrelated.