SHE'S IN THE SACK with her hubby, who's just as average as she, but mean. He grunts, "How 'bout not reading gruesome shit in bed? I can't sleep when you leave your lamp on all night to protect you from the booger-man."

Ruth feigns girlish fear in a forlorn attempt to get a pity lay. "I'm so scared," she whispers. "Can't I have the light? Please? I got chills from this terrible dude." She strokes the mug shot on the front cover, trying to make her hubby jealous.

"ASSHOLE," he replies, and rolls over, making sure to rake a couple red stripes out of her calf with his unclipped toenails. Then without further ado, he commences snoring.

Ruth is also snoring soon, in spite of the sounds of a very clumsy intruder grappling with the window in the next room. The book lies open, face down, across her chest.

AS A HOUSEBREAKER,

Spencer's a serious spaz. He falls all over himself climbing in the window, getting tangled in the curtain, and raising all manner of ruckus.

Eventually he manages to loom over the sleeping couple, wielding the stolen butcher knife. Just as he is about to strike, Spencer sees something that brings horror to his face--or at least the closest approximation he can manage.