In Paranormal Activity 2, not everything is as it appears. But the presence in the house has a few words of advice.
[This piece includes one reference to one plot point from early in Paranormal Activity 2. Please be advised.]
Hello. I'm the demon from Paranormal Activity 2. Please don't be scared just yet, as I'm only mildly irritated by you right now. Your toddler, your dog, and your magical Latina housekeeper have all sensed my presence and have mixed feelings about me—saucer-eyed curiosity, ruff-ruff-ruff, and "¿Cómo se dice 'freaked out' in Español?," respectively—but I've been going easy on you so far. In fact, the pranking I've done to this point is pretty juvenile—a door opening here, an light flicker there—and you probably slept right through it.
(Okay, fine, I'll admit it: I'm the one who ransacked your place while you were away. But who hasn't fantasized about breaking into someone's house and moving the furniture around, just to mess with their heads a little? What can I say? I get bored sometimes. I'm not proud of it.)
But if you're at all familiar with the events of Paranormal Activity—though why would you be, since they take place a couple of months from now?—you would know that I'm a bit temperamental. And the angrier I get, the more I'm going to take it out on you. But as a friendly gesture, I wanted to make you aware of a few of my pet peeves, so you can avoid more serious spooking/murdering.
1. Don't leave the pool cleaner running at night. It sounds petty, but if you leave the pool cleaner running, I'll knock it out every night. Just as humans might have issues with other humans drinking out of the carton or leaving the toilet seat up, demons hate clean swimming pools. It's not for you to understand; it's for you to do.
2. Ixnay on the emon-day. Upset about the scurrying-rat sound coming from inside the walls? Skeeved by hearing a ghost whisper in your ear? Don't talk about me. Don't Google “demons” on the Internet. Don't look into some convoluted family history that bores even me. I know it's hard, but let me recommend my favorite Mandy Moore movie to you: It's called How To Deal.
3. Enough with the cameras. I'm from an older generation, a generation that didn't feel the need to document every banal, insipid moment from their lives for posterity. You're not in the Big Brother house. And if this were the Big Brother house, first prize would be me dragging you down the stairs by the neck. On a related note…
4. Cool it with the incessant yammering. I'm not sure who you think the audience is for your improvisational ramblings, but it sure isn't me. It's always “blah-blah-blah I'm scared” and “blah-blah-blah you're being irrational.” I'm doing you a favor by livening things up around here. Otherwise, screening your home movies would be a felony.
5. A Ouija board, really? In 2010? Don't try to summon me with that weak sauce. I will light it on fire.
If you keep those tips in mind, we should be hunky-dor…
Oh, who am I kidding? I'll probably murder you anyway. I'm a demon, remember? That's how we do.