my brother and i hid in the cellar, cranking up the stereo connected to the amiga really loud when it happened.
my stepfather didn't talk much.
he was more of a swallower.
he had his own style though. a bit of a james dean who had forgotten completely that life wasn't just a machoflic after all.
at times things were spilling over the brim and he exploded.
he wouldn't leave his room for a whole weekend after he did, leaving us to suffer for what we had done and not.
i never got to know what exactly that was, but it sure gnawed at his guts pretty efficiently.