Can i have a piece with not so much rat in it? 
Some years ago in a poorer section of a smallish town in Northern NJ, a freshman soulmurk and his sophmore friend Mike were keen on playing hookey from school about once a week.
Mike lived with his mother and two sisters, in a two-story, brick-faced apartment amid a very large series of complexes that all resembled one another.
On one particular day, we were, against several warnings, upstairs in his older sisters bedroom, listening to her CD’s. During a break between songs, we heard his doorbell ring.
Once. Twice. Thrice.
Playing hookey as we were, and being in his sister’s room without permission, we were admittedly a little scared and curious as to who could possibly be at the door, so we slowly opened the window with the little hand crank and peeked outside (her room was almost directly above the front door). Expecting the school’s truancy officer, or perhaps my over-protective mother, we were a bit taken aback to see three young, cleancut, well-dressed men.
Still not sure who these people were, we pulled our heads back into the room and, deepening our voices as best we could, shouted that they should come back later.
At this, the “leader” of the group, announced his intentions to save our souls, and that later might be too late. He needed to speak to us now. He then attempted to bribe us with doughnuts. Our curiosity piqued, we looked out the window again and noticed two things we hadn’t originally: each man was carrying a bible and prominantly displaying a largish gold cross on a chain around their neck, and the man in the back was indeed carrying a box of a dozen of Dunkin’ Donut’s finest.
Realizing their intent at this point, not having any experience with JH’s or Mormon’s or any other branch of door-to-door proselytizers, and being about 15 years old all led to a very quick break down in communications.
It started out fairly cordially. They just wanted to come in for a moment and share their doughnuts and discuss our eternal souls, and we just wanted their doughnuts.
After a few minutes of bargaining, and encouraged by our being a story above them and safe behind our brick wall, we, being bratty teenage boys, decided that the best way to part them from their doughnuts would be to mercilessly taunt them.
And it worked, sort of.
We were not clever at all about it. We were pretty rude and crude, essentially ridiculing their sexual preferences and their religion and shouting that satan was our lord, etc. etc.
Something we’d said must have really irked them because mid-taunt, Mike and I were both extremely surprised when something whizzed by our heads and made a sickening “PLLLPH” sound above us.
Looking up, my poor brain couldn’t register what had just happened or what that long, reddish smear was on the ceiling until Mike turned beet red, had a fire light in his eyes, and announced that his sister was going to kill us. That smear was the innards of a jelly doughnut.
Mike quickly scraped off what he could while I located and salvaged the remains of the doughnut’s shell. With nothing else to do with the remains, we launched them out the window at the apparently departing men.
They were not happy to have their recently pressed shirts soiled thusly, and returned the barrage tenfold. Well, technically, elevenfold… they had a dozen doughnuts to start.
Up through the window came a Boston Creme. Against the window splattered a crueller with sprinkles. Tangled in the drapes was a pinkish raspberry jelly.
Caught in the anger of the viscous assault, Mike and I began returning fire with anything we could salvage. Jelly and cream was splattered all over the sidewalk and front steps, as well as their pant legs and shirts. And the wall around the window. And on the window itself. And all over Mike’s sister’s room. And all over us.
And somehow, the five of us were hooting and hollering and laughing our asses off.
The doughnuts were used up and worthless now, and the men asked if they could come in to clean up. I told Mike not to trust them, but he agreed.
I hid upstairs for the next two hours as Mike tried to get them to leave. They did eventually leave, when Mike’s sister came home from work early and threw them out.
I jumped out the window rather than face her wrath.
You forgot to preface that story with:
“Dear Penthouse, I never thought it could happen to me, but…”
That would have been perfect.
Don’t see that any of the stories here would warrant that preface.
I am laughing so hard there are tears in my eyes.
YOU WIN THE INTERNET. The person who wrote that wins something, too, but I’m too busy giggling to figure out what.
soulmurk I can guarantee they weren’t Mormon missionaries.
I’m not sure which comic it was, but I always liked, “Draw a chalk outline on the ground outside your door. Scatter religious pamphlets.” I have yet to try it. But I will as soon as they start harrassing me here.
no screen name: Call your local Kingdom Hall to complain. According to a non-JW-but-with-lots-of-JW-relatives friend of mine, you’ll probably get the standard one-year reprieve.
FWIW, I’ve found explaining that everyone in the household is atheist is good for at least several years worth of peace. If you say agnostic you’re doomed, but atheist usually scares them off for a good, long time. Apparently we’re beyond help. 
I’m not sure what organization, if any, they represented. The way I remember them visually reminds me of the Mormon missionaries I see around now, but that doesn’t mean anything.
Sorry, soulmurk, I meant no offense by that remark. It was your story that inspired it, however. It just struck me as that kind of narrative, style-wise.
To tell the truth, after I posted that quip, it occured to me that a better joke would have been “Dear Straightdope, I never thought it could happen to me…”, thus riffing on the traditional Penthouse letter opening without the sexual connotation.
It was just the way that the story (which I enjoyed) was structured. That is not to say or imply that I think you made it up, or anything, nor that it was sexual in any way. I just read a lot of Penthouse-type letters (many years ago; it was a phase), and the style of your post reminded me of those stories.
Again, no offense intended. I rather got a chuckle out of it.
I interpreted your response very differently than you’d intended. Glad you enjoyed it.
So, what you’re saying is, I either need to work on my narrative style… or go apply at Penthouse Forum…
Now, there ya go! 
I just meant if they were wearing crosses they weren’t Mormons. The LDS do not wear crosses.
Neither do JW’s… Wonder which denomination allows assault with pastry? 
LDS missionaries can. We managed to get a couple of nice young men to bring a big entertainment center up to our second floor condo.
If Tom Cruise shows up at my door to preach he’s in for it. Established religion is one thing, cults doing door-to-door evangalising would ignite my argumentative mode. I wonder if most scientologists know how messed up their organization really is.
I came mightily close to threatening violence one day when a catholic dorstepper told me that priests molested children because we didn’t pray hard enough for them.
I recently enjoyed a note fron The Master on scientologists and their cult but a search for one on the JW origins came up empty. I know it is messed up as well and recall a Southpark pointing out some of this. Does anyone know of Cecil writting up a piece on them. They are the “gold-plates-read-from-a-hat-in-a-secret-tongue” bunch are they not?
Some factual info would be appreciated.
As to the OP: I hate when they do this crap. Years back, my friends and I had been having an all-night RISK and beer party and these guys show up at the door that Saturday morn. Though we were still mid-game, my roommate opens the door but can’t get them to leave. My friend, Crazy Dave, picked up my 9mm from the end table and fired a round into the corner of our wood frame house (opposite the direction of the interlopers). That seemed to work well. Don’t believe we were ever visted again in the two years we were there.
My experience has been that many missionaries believe that Jews are worth bonus points when it comes to collecting converts for Jesus.
No good; you’ll just get the Lubavichers.