Their son was spending the night with the grandparents. One of their son's toys seemingly possessed, went off repeatedly. She woke her sleeping husband to deal with it. He turned it off, so he thought. Again it made noise. She woke him. He hid it in the basement, but she could still hear it. Finally, he grabbed his trusty ball pein hammer and smashed it to oblivion. Satisfied he enjoyed the most peaceful sleep he could remember. When he woke, alone, the toy was untouched on the night stand, next to his ball pein hammer covered in fresh blood splatter.