Lol, for some reason this comment brought to mind an episode from my past dealings with some of the more abrasive members of my family, or more correctly, my wife's family.Go in the fish room and lock the door.
Long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away...i.e. not long after my not-yet-wife and I had recently moved in together...we were blessed with a completely unannounced visit from a relative of hers, who showed up with his wife and 2 kids literally on our doorstep. In that benighted time, we were living in a 19th-floor condominium in Toronto, where visitors typically needed to be buzzed-in...but the leader of this particular band of Orcs thought it would be uproariously funny to slip past the front exterior door at the same time as some legitimate tenants and ride up to our place to surprise us.
So after we fed them...we had eaten our supper hours earlier...and had sat through a couple hours of stilted and uninspired conversation to "catch up" with each other...and after one of their evil brood had managed to receive a bite from our cat, who was the gentlest, friendliest cat on the planet so I still wonder how that happened...they announced that they wanted to turn in because they needed to get a 5:00am start (!) the next day to continue their cross-country jaunt. The fact that they were leaving cheered me up a bit, so I happily showed them to our one small guest room, which was situated between the master bedroom and the spare room occupied by wall-to-wall fishtanks and snake cages.
They pointed at the closed door and asked what was in that room; I assume that they were hinting that they wanted to occupy both rooms instead of just the one. Before I could answer, my wife blurted out "That's where John keeps his snakes!"
I blanched; I normally didn't disclose the contents of that room to other than close friends, and these people were neither "close" nor "friends". The female Orc bristled immediately; "You have snakes in there? Actual live snakes???"
I smiled innocently. "Well, they're not much fun if they're dead..."
She continued unsmilingly: "Well, we'll have to put those out on the balcony for the night. I can't have live snakes next door to me while I sleep!"
I should mention that all this occurred in February...a cold, snowy February...
I drew in a breath and girded myself for battle...but my wife beat me to it...
"Well, then, Broomhilda (not her real name, I use it here to protect the guilty, and because it was our little inside joke when referring to her...), I guess you will just have to go to a motel. The snakes stay inside!"
The combat was short; much huffing and sniffing and growling, but no weapons were drawn. The Orcs finally retreated and we barred the door. I looked at my wife questioningly.
She looked grim. "Don't say a word!"
So I didn't.