Not scary so much as dangerously foolish rednecks.
My closest neighbors (quarter of a mile across a field) are some of the most dangerous rednecks even the Deep South would stay away from. Just a couple weeks ago I encountered them in the local hardware store buying PVC pipe and Butane. This did not bode well.
The next morning I was rudely awoken at the crack of noon by an ear-splitting bang, the classic Dukes of Hazzard "Hoo-yah!", and a terrible shriek (in that order).
I jumped out of my hammock, threw on some clothes, and ran out the door. The scene that met my eyes was one of wanton destruction. These chainsmoking hard-drinking redneck bastards had, using a monstrous potato cannon, shot an iron bar into my brick barbecue pit! Even though it took me awhile to get outside the brick dust still had not cleared; one dust-covered figure was lying on the ground nursing a serious pipe-inflicted groin wound (but there was no time to gloat now) and the other was standing next to the pit with an expression of horror. I shouted something along the lines of "What the dollar sign number sign, you fucking asterix percent ampersands!" at him. He said nothing. For the first time I looked at the brick structure closely. The chimney seemed about two feet shorter than usual. In fact as I walked closer it became apparent that what was once a beautiful (built by me, I might add, with about as much difficulty as in the Simpsons)barbecue pit was just a pile of rubble. I mean, it was absolutely destroyed. If it hadn't been mine, I would have been impressed. As it was, I was flaming mad.
This small incident soon escalated into an all-out cartoon-style war. The main weapon: spud guns. It was fairly run-of-the-mill in terms of damage, dents in houses, garage doors with holes through them, etc. but then a friend came over and we built the most fearsome weapon ever known to man or Silastic Armorfiend of Striterax: The Shopping Cart Tank. I won't go into detail, but imagine a howitzer and a machine gun mounted onto two welded-together monster shopping carts (trolleys), all powered by a 10hp go-kart motor, and you'll get the idea. We fired a few warning shots into their front door to inform them that the jig was up, and that they could stop trying to antagonize me. Strangely enough, considering I had just heard loud crashes, they weren't in. We motored 'round to the back at a good clip (25!) and found the rednecks finally destroyed. While testing their latest weapon of evil, they had shot two four-foot spears of 3" PVC pipe straight up in the air, with sharp knives strapped to the ends. The poor aerodynamics of these missiles resulted in one coming down at ridiculously high speed and smashing through the windshield of their prized truck and coming out the bottom. Apparently it just missed the transmission but they would need a new seat and windshield and were missing a chunk of dashboard. It was marvellous. We had to ask them where the other went, as it wasn't readily visible.
You wouldn't think that a mere knife attached to plastic would go through a roof. You would think that somebody would notify their daughter-- who had an attic room-- if they were testing something incredibly dangerous in the backyard. But these rednecks were not normal people.
The daughter of one had been peacefully sitting on her bed when a giant spear crashed its way into her room, in an eerily Donnie Darko-style shower of plaster, shingles, and wood. It came down about 6 feet from her.
You can imagine the rednecks weren't that bothered about this, but then a wife emerged. I've never heard such howling.
That day still brings tears to my eyes.
Later I went back and shot up all their potato cannons using the tank. Sometimes I wish I had more neighbors like that, at least so I had an excuse to destroy more things.

I'd apologize for length, but that would be giving in to the overwhelming peer pressure. Oh wait...
(I'm Owen McLove, I could have you killed., Thu 25 Aug 2005, 21:53, Reply)