You snicker a little. You weren't sure exactly why, but it was almost like playing a practical joke on an innocent hide-and-seeker; they never see you coming.
. You struggled to mute your laughter, but as we all know, the harder you try to stifle it the funnier it becomes, and soon your poor old neighbor's silent torment just seemed to be about the funniest damn thing you had ever witnessed.
"Aha" he said, waving his cane into the night, "I hear you! Don't think I don't know you're there, you!"
Eventually you gave up any hopes of keeping quiet. What the hell? The guy was already in need of his meds, why not embrace the weird situation a little? With that in mind, you not only laugh, but actually amplify it a little. Your laughter bounces around a bit and sounds tinny and hollow; it actually brings goosebumps to your own arms -- which drives you pretty much over the edge and you snort. This unexpected turn of events catches you off-guard, and your mildly annoying laughter instantly spins out of control into the wild cackling of some deranged hyena.
The old man's silhouette suddenly became much less animated. He stopped brandishing his cane like a weapon and called out into the night in his loudest voice, "Hello? Hello? In the name of all that's evil, what in Hades is going on around here?!"
You peered at his reflection in a nearby metal trashcan and contained your laughter to a soft chortle. Then you found three red Skittles in your pocket and popped them into your mouth -- only for a moment -- and gave them a chew. Then you spat the whole gooey mess into your hand and tossed it toward the old man's door. The red saliva and sugar concoction splattered against the glass pane just to the left of the duffer's cheek, which looked surprisingly evil, like some sick bird droppings pooped out by Satan's tern, which then slowly descended the glass.
The old man freaked with an impossibly long, shrill screech. You hoped he wasn't going to have a heart attack or something. He finally slammed the door whilst speaking in tongues to evidently ward off whatever was pooping blood on his back door.
The back light snapped off, though you could still hear the old man sputtering inside, and you leaned back with a smile.
Victory was yours.