Is this a Stephen King story?
Where we discover the reason you like your huge basement is because you don't have to move the body after it "falls" through the ceiling?
No, but thinking about it, I certainly have the making of one. I did have a dog named Cujo. (Black lab, not St. Bernard.)
Well, you sure as hell are going to NOW.
LOL! Ok, so our attic runs the length of our house, but it's not very tall, so you can't stand up straight. It's also unfinished, so in order to get across it you either have to walk on the beams or some loose panels we placed there to help. About 8 to 10 years ago, Mr. Z is up in the attic running a cable (I forget whether it was for the internet or TV cable) and I'm sitting in the living room on the couch reading a book. All the sudden I hear this huge crash right above my head! I run into the kitchen, because our kitchen and living room share a wall and all the sudden I see this leg sticking out of the ceiling. And not just part of a leg, but the entire leg. It turns out Mr. Z slipped on one of the panels. And of course at first I'm really worried, because I start asking Mr. Z "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"and I'm looking for blood and thinking "oh my gosh, if I have to get in the emergency room, how my going to get him out of the attic"? And finally he tells me, yeah I'm okay, and there's not even a scrape on him, thank goodness. So once I realize he's not in any danger I'm laughing hysterically because, wel, there's a leg in my ceiling! Although it's a good thing he slipped to the right and not the left because if he had slipped to the left he would have come down right where I was sitting.
Somewhere I have the photos of all this but it's been so long I don't remember where I saved them.
