A summer's tale...

I looked at Max. He looked back at me sheepishly. He's done something, I thought, I just know it.
 I took a look out the window: Nope, nothing there. Frankly, I'd been expecting another mob of recent: Angry Wookies, maybe. But no, my garden looks quiet. Not that creepy almost-too-quiet they have in films, but a normal quiet, with the occasional noise of no particular interest, and only a few zombies in the distance.
 "What've you done?"
Max continued to look sheepish. Maybe, I hoped, it would something anti-climatic, like that time he spent a week worrying he would die because he picked a peanut out of his teeth after he peed, but before he washed his hands.
 "You've done something, I can tell."
After the recent Smurf debacle, I hadn't really been happy leaving Max alone. But yesterday, he escaped on the train to the highway. After some questioning, I found out he'd stolen an ice-cream truck that had been abandoned in the pileup. Then, filling it with vegetables, he had raised the hopes of local children. And, as they gave him money for a refreshing, icy beverage to cool them down, he'd thrown celery at them and sped off.
 Max, while usually well-meaning, had a very cruel streak...

It was dark at first. Then, slowly, I realised my eyes were closed. Once opened, I found the room to be somewhat brighter. Struggling with my quest for light, I got out of bed and stumbled towards the window, intent on opening the curtains. However, as I approached, I noticed a sticky note attached to the them. Leaning closer, I read it: "DO NoT Open the WINdoW!"
The handwriting was definitely mine, but it was shaky, as if I was writing it while scared. I didn't remember writing it however, so I disregarded the warning.
Pulling back the curtains, I was greeted by an unfamiliar sight. A tramp, dressed in torn shirt and jeans, was stood just outside the window. He had an eye-patch, and as he noticed me, he began to wave enthusiastically with his left hand - or, to be precise, left hook. I froze for a few seconds, and, not detecting movement, he seemed to lose sight of me. Dejectedly, he began to look around, first peering around the room through the window, them moving to the other windows of the house. After a while, he began to search in the trees near the gate, and while his back was turned, I dropped the blind and returned to bed.
I'm not sure what I've gotten into this time, or how to get rid of him.
I still have some sulfuric acid in my cupboard. I suppose I could throw that at him.