Eyehole Puns

Title

EDIT: just had an extra idea... it should have specific sounds, like an obvious exagerated human going boooOOOooo

I was renting someone else’s house while they were away. I believe the term is a vacation rental here in the US.

I never met the owners of the house. I never spoke on the phone with them or emailed them directly. Everything was handled through the online rental company I used.

It was a cozy and charming one-story bungalow, with more than enough space for just me while I worked temporarily in the area. I was settling in, beginning to put my stuff in one of the closets, when I noticed it:

A stack of folded white sheets in the closet nearest the living room.

There was nothing unusual about that. The beds in both bedrooms already had sheets on them, but I was sure those sheets were just extra in case I needed them.

However, there was a folded piece of white cardstock on top. It was standing up so that I could see there was writing inside. I immediately believed it could be a note for me. Like something about those sheets, their care, or the care of other things in the bungalow.

I opened it up.

Inside was the following handwritten note:

PlAiN wHItE ShEeTS wiTH eYeHoLES cuT iN THeM aRe tHE eASiEST wAY tO PrETeND YoU’Re A GHosT. gO AHeAd aND TrY iT.

Already I was thrown off by the note. In addition to the content, the handwriting was . . . strange. It was rough. Even so, I felt certain it wasn’t a child’s doing.

I put the note aside, and I unfolded one of the white bedsheets. It had two small holes cut in it close together.

I unfolded another. There were two small holes in that one also.

By the time I had unfolded one more sheet with eyeholes cut in it, my hands were shaking.

I thought I heard something moving behind me in the house.

My heart ran while I stood still.

After about five minutes of me just standing there listening to the creaks of the house, I searched around. I went through both bedrooms, the bathroom, the kitchen and dining area, and the living room. I checked all of the closets and under the two beds. I even stepped out onto the veranda outside and walked around both sides of the house.

Then I looked up my rental receipt and found the number of the house’s owners. When I tried calling them, no one answered, so I left a message about the sheets in the closet and the state they were in. And I read the note I’d found.

“Call me back when you get the chance,” I said.

I was feeling better. I kept telling myself it was probably something one of their kids had done before they’d left, if they had kids. I forced myself to change my mind a

Personally, I think that's outrageous. It's a safety risk for those inside the house, how are they to know the people outside are really police officers and not burglars.

I for one wouldn't open the door if I can't see who's outside, and that goes for everyone and not just police. How do you think citizens should handle this situation, without compromising their safety (that is, no "just open the door because it's easier for us")?

I was renting someone else’s house while they were away. I believe the term is a vacation rental here in the US.

I never met the owners of the house. I never spoke on the phone with them or emailed them directly. Everything was handled through the online rental company I used.

It was a cozy and charming one-story bungalow, with more than enough space for just me while I worked temporarily in the area. I was settling in, beginning to put my stuff in one of the closets, when I noticed it:

A stack of folded white sheets in the closet nearest the living room.

There was nothing unusual about that. The beds in both bedrooms already had sheets on them, but I was sure those sheets were just extra in case I needed them.

However, there was a folded piece of white cardstock on top. It was standing up so that I could see there was writing inside. I immediately believed it could be a note for me. Like something about those sheets, their care, or the care of other things in the bungalow.

I opened it up.

Inside was the following handwritten note:

PlAiN wHItE ShEeTS wiTH eYeHoLES cuT iN THeM aRe tHE eASiEST wAY tO PrETeND YoU’Re A GHosT. gO AHeAd aND TrY iT.

Already I was thrown off by the note. In addition to the content, the handwriting was . . . strange. It was rough. Even so, I felt certain it wasn’t a child’s doing.

I put the note aside, and I unfolded one of the white bedsheets. It had two small holes cut in it close together.

I unfolded another. There were two small holes in that one also.

By the time I had unfolded one more sheet with eyeholes cut in it, my hands were shaking.

I thought I heard something moving behind me in the house.

My heart ran while I stood still.

After about five minutes of me just standing there listening to the creaks of the house, I searched around. I went through both bedrooms, the bathroom, the kitchen and dining area, and the living room. I checked all of the closets and under the two beds. I even stepped out onto the veranda outside and walked around both sides of the house.

Then I looked up my rental receipt and found the number of the house’s owners. When I tried calling them, no one answered, so I left a message about the sheets in the closet and the state they were in. And I read the note I’d found.

“Call me back when you get the chance,” I said.

I was feeling better. I kept telling myself it was probably something one of their kids had done before they’d left, if they had kids. I forced myself to change my mind a