He looks at his dog, "I think we have guests. Or will have guests. Think they're like that other guy on Tumblr?" He starts gathering up the things one necessarily doesn't want strangers to see.
Porn is brushed into a drawer. Something that looks like tiny pieces of frosted glass or rock candy is collected diligently and tucked away into a small locked box. Exactly seven lighters are put up, leaving one to light the bowl of a glass aperture in his hand for a couple of quick hits before it, too, is carefully put away.
He runs a hand through his hair and glances at the computer again.
"...Oh." He glances over the email from his oldest son, snorting a laugh at something that may or may not have really been funny, and closes the laptop.
"You sit this one out." He says to the dog as the tell-tale sloshing sounds begin outside. He grabs the shotgun, extra rounds, and a machete and heads out to go sit on the roof of the camper and wait.