The death of a fire alarm

In August we went to Midway to stay in my in-law's time share.  While there, we made pancakes one morning, which set the fire alarms off.  Since then, Brighton and Waverly have been terrified of them.  Brighton has mostly gotten over it, but for some reason, Waverly has suddenly developed a phobia of them.  Probably thanks to Brighton, is my sneaking suspicion.  She refused to go to bed a few nights ago, and when she did finally fall asleep, she woke up again at 1am and insisted on sleeping in our bed the rest of the night.  I've never allowed that from my other kids, but my pounding headache gave in and let her.  The next night she went through the same refusal to get in her crib.  Not wanting a repeat of another bed-sharing experience, Scott disconnected the alarm from the ceiling, and took our Sword of Truth from our FHE this week, and "killed" the fire alarm with it.  He hammed it up, making a show of stabbing it and slicing it.  We convinced her the hanging wires were the guts.  It wasn't a magic fix, but it did convince her to stay in her crib that night.  Every night since we've had to re-enact it, with Waverly using the sword to "kill" the alarm and making dying sounds.  I always am so amused by what silly things we do as parents to pacify our children.  Hopefully this sword will work for the monsters under her bed that will eventually be found lurking there.:)