Let’s say you are the kind of person who shares a wall with another person, like, me. If your dwelling shares a wall with my dwelling and, if you want to have sex in your dwelling at 8 in the morning, which, you know, is your right, could we have an understanding that you don’t make noises that sound like you’re laying on the floor in a pool of your own blood? Or, if you’re going to make those noises, could you throw in a well-placed “Yes, god, yes,” so that I can say “Oh, god, what’s that horrid noise? Oh, oops. Tee hee.” and get on with my day without having to decide if I should wake the Butcher to break into your house to save you?
Also, if you are moaning because you’ve been horribly stabbed and are just there on the floor in a pool of your own blood, slowly dying, I apologize ahead of time for deciding that you were having sex and not calling for help.
Tiny Cat Pants 
Horribly stabbed? As opposed to comfortably stabbed?
As in “stabbed so ineptly that the victim doesn’t die at once, but lingers on next to a shared wall, making sex-having noises.”
-laughs uncontrollably-
Maybe the opposite of horribly stabbed is some sort of graceful, stylized, Kabuki-type performance, wherein every gesture, every precise note of cries of carnage, carries a specific meaning.
Or maybe it’s just a good thing I decided to do the exact same thing with my evening that B did.
What I really want to know is, did the Butcher actually go over and break in on them having sex?
my neighbors used to make my ficus tree shake. the poor thing lost more leaves that year than any other year.
I’m HOWWWWLING
Maybe comfortably stabbed could be a nice euphamism for sex.
W, do not use that in front of the twins. Do not! Hearing one’s parents repeatedly say, “oh, we’re going upstairs to stab each other comfortably” is going to make them want to try comfortably stabbing each other and anyone else around. And you can’t lock up all the knives and scissors forever.