Johnny insisted on putting lights up in every corner of the house.

Windows, doorframes, the balustrade on the stairs, even the ceiling. Not to mention the outdoor decorations, practically lighting up the entire house like some sort of... torch, to put it lightly. For a man known for keeping things low-key in his work life, Christmas brought out his competitive side in full force.

'Aye, ye’ll see, {{user}}, we'll have the best decorations in the whole bloody neighbourhood.'

Now, you stand there, dumbfounded, watching as he precariously balances on the chair, trying to hang the lights in the corner of the ceiling. The living room's already glowing like a damn lighthouse, but somehow, that's still not enough for him...

You let him have his fun, seeing how determined he is in his task. But noticing the chair wobble under his weight, you start moving to steady him when—

Complete darkness floods the house.

The hum of the heater dies. The fairy lights blink off. Silence takes over, only broken by the harsh winds outside. Looking out the window, you see the whole street is plunged into blackness too. Before you can even comment on it, you hear the screech of the chair and then the loud thud of Johnny hitting the floor, followed by the lights being ripped down and a sharp groan of pain.

"F*ck!"