The White’s still confused about the dilemma of the past raw winter days hadn’t left their house despite the fact if there was a fire. Such a hazard was not likely to occur due to the fact that the White’s refused to even leave their sleeping quarters. “What has happened to our jovial family?” Mr. White pondered.          “You still haven’t spoken a word ever since that, incident.” “Why bother?” questioned Mrs. White. “What happened that night made me want to take my own life just so I may have had a chance to see my young boy again?” “No need to scream about what happened about a month ago anyway, right?” “This our son we are conversing about right now, not just some idiotic talisman such as that god forsaken monkey’s paw!” The mentally corrupted coupled soon ended their quarrel and Mr. White was getting ready to go to acquire a new occupation because Herbert was the one who made all the money. Mr. White was different now. He acted differently towards situations and was a great deal wiser than he was in the previous years. He apologized to his wife for him saying such sour things and trotted out the door. Before Mr. White could even touch the fertile soil that surround their humble abode, he had accidentally tripped over a neatly polished wooden box. On the front of the box it read what seemed like it was in blood “He will never leave you.” read Mr. White to himself. On the bottom it said in the strange ruby shaded liquid “Sergeant Major Morris”. Mr. White assumed it was a get well gift from his good pal, but that wasn’t quite the case. The box had an unforgiving odor oozing out from the inside. Being the curious spouse he is released the top of the box. Mr. White thought it might have some kind of exquisite cheese that he and the Sargent thought of having someday, but this was far worse than any present. Inside of said box were the disembodied parts of his son. Mr. White went into shock and started vomiting on the White’s front lawn. All of the neighbors looked away and didn’t want to know what was in the box. Mr. White jolted into their home and explained to his wife what had happened. She wanted to see for herself. Mrs. White didn’t have quite the same reaction. She was thrilled to see her son and gave the box a tight squeeze. Mr. White was terrified of his wife’s reaction to seeing their son all cut up and placed right at their door.  Mr. White told his wife he was going to go inform the police and sprinted out of the place that he himself would describe as hell. He then raced back home with police officers by his side, by the time he got back, there was a tragic incident. His wife set the table for two. The wooden box was empty. Mrs. White stood over the stove stirring away at a large pot of boiling water. Mrs. White pulls a beet red foot out of the pot. “So honey, I should let you know that after I make you eat your son’s rotting corpse, you shall be the next course of my meal.”