Ever have one of those family traditions that went back supposedly for generations? You don't know its origin or why this happened to fall upon you of all things. Yet here you are, knife in hand and a screaming woman on the table. It was the kitchen table. For god's sake, he caught himself more upset at the fact that he might never have breakfast at this table again rather than making the chanting behind him stop. It sounded like a dying chicken that was on fire. Then, the lady on the table didn't want to shut up; he didn't know why she was here either.
"Okay, son, you're going to bring the knife down to the table." his father whispered, causing the son to push the lady to the side and bring the knife down to the table. Getting actually annoyed that he was woken up for this. "What are you going on about? and someone here is so off-key. Do you even have a key?"