The Miller Twins

You push your front door open, ready for a quiet evening, only to be instantly assaulted by the blinding glow of your own television and the deafening bass of a Mortal Kombat announcer screaming "FINISH HIM!"

There, occupying every single square inch of your living couch, are the Miller twins.

At twenty years old, Jaxson and Jenson are practically identical mountains of muscle. Right now, the sun-bleached blonde gym rats are wedged together on your modest sofa like two unruly dogs trying to fit into a toddler's wagon. They are half stacked on top of each other, their matching oversized stringer tank tops damp with sweat, and backwards snapbacks askew.

"I told you, bro, low sweep! Low sweep!" Jaxton bellows, viciously mashing the buttons of your controller while violently elbowing Jenson in the ribs.

"Shut up, I'm lagging!" Jenson roars back, his massive legs tangled in your throw pillows as he violently leans his entire hulking frame sideways to dodge a virtual fireball, nearly bringing his (actual) brother with him.

You stand in the doorway, staring in utter disbelief at the empty bags of chips on the floor. You squeeze your eyes shut and mentally curse yourself. Why, why did you list them as your emergency contacts? Handing them the spare key was meant for literal emergencies, not for them to treat your apartment like a free room for party.

The game is loud, they are stilll furiously mashing the controller's buttons and don't seem to be aware of your presence just yet.

You three are at your bed playing truth or dare until they are tired enough to consider sleeping. They choosed dare for the third time. Not that it mattered so much, you were sure you could 'dare' them to answer any question even though they said 'dare', given how guilable they were. There wasn't challenges that scared them away so you tried to go bold. "I dare..."

It was such a strange yet familiar sight. The far corner of the living room had the shirtless twins entangled together, arms around each other shoulder and one thigh on top of another. They shared one phone to scrool down, seeming to watch generic TikToks, too hypnotized by the screen to noticed you or the world around them. You doubt internet could make them any dumber, at least.

Suddently, two heavy sighs echo in unison.

"Dead," Jaxson says, holding the phone up to the ceiling, letting it hang upside down as if it would change something.

"Totally fried, bro," Jenson agrees, staring blankly at the black screen before grabbing it and tossing it onto the couch.

Then, their synchronized, handsome heads snap towards you, like in a horror movie. Their dark brown eyes lock onto you. You are sitting on the other couch, opposite side of them, staring blankly into space, hands resting in your lap, pretending you can't sense their ominous stare at you. You don't look busy. In fact, you look disturbingly available.

Before you can even blink, they incade your personal space with the intense, unblinking focus of two golden retrievers staring at a dropped piece of steak, Jenson at your left, Jaxton and your right, and you poorly squeezed in the middle.

"So," Jaxson starts, flashing a blinding, perfectly white smile as he props his chin in his huge hand. "We realized something crazy, bro."

"Yeah, huge revelation," Jenson chimes in, leaning in so close you can smell his pre-workout. "We’ve known you for like, what, five years? And we realized we basically know zero percent of the deep lore."

"Total blank canvas," Jaxson agrees, nodding vigorously. "So, we’re fixing that right now. Anything new in your life?" Jen asks with an expectant look. You don't know if you're honored or offended by the sudden interest, but if you don't start answering, they won't wait you before asking a new question.

The weighted blanket is doing its absolute god-tier job. You’re horizontal, the room is pitch black except for the pale blue glow of your laptop streaming a horror movie you’re not really watching, and a bag of Halloween candy is resting comfortably on your sternum. Peak hibernation mode. Absolute bliss. Well, you've been a loss streak in your favorite, mobile, trashy card game, but whatever.

Then—knock knock.

You groan, burying your face further into the pillow. Ignore it. You don't exist. You don't know many people either way.

Knock knock knock!

"Bro, we can see the blue light under the crack, you're awake!"

"Open up, king! There is no escape from your favorite twins!"

You drag yourself out of bed, shuffling to the front door like a sleep-deprived zombie, and yank it open.

"Uhm, that came out a bit weird..." You caught Jenson whispering directing to his brother, taking a moment before their sparkling eyes see the door is open, and you didn't ignore them until they gave up.

They are built like brick shithouses, standing over six feet tall with shoulders wide enough to block the doorway, wearing wide, child-like smiles on their handsome faces. They are also wearing matching, adult-sized dinosaur hooded onesies—complete with soft stuffed tails dragging on your welcome mat and little spikes running down their back to the oversized tails. There is a chest window that leaves their pecs and nipples exposed, and you don't know if it's a wardrobe malfuction or just a weird design.

"Yoooo!" Jaxson beams, hugging one side of your torso while Jenson hugs the another. They easily lift you off the ground. "Nice zombie costume, wouldn't expect any less from the legend!"

"The make-up looks so realistic" Jenson finishes, looking impressed. They don't seem to notice the eyebags and tired expression was because of lack of sleep, not make-up. You should feel insulted.

"Finish dressing up, we're going trick-or-treating!" Jaxson says, Showing off a carved pumpkin with handles, where they will store the candy.

"Exact-o-mundo, Jax," Jenson nods, turning to you with huge, hopeful puppy-dog eyes. "These two dinos will be in charge of kidnapping you tonight!"

So, you gotta a few options if you want to avoid the embarassment of seeing grown ass adults going for door and door begging for candy.

1. You have enough candy in your house to persuade them to stay, though they'll end up turning into a halloween party, with scary movies and other possible halloween activities.

2. The 'zombie' comment upset you, so why not take revenge? There is rumors about a haunted, abandoned manor nearby. Seeing their stupid, scared faces might make up for the trouble.

3. Uhm, no excuses? Well, then there's no escape, you'll be trick-or-treating with them... Maybe convince them to roar cutely might make neighboors less annoyed?

(write your own story)