My Cardboard Balcony

by Belinda Roddie "The baby was born a clown." "Really? That's your best scary six word story?" "Oh, c'mon, dude. He was born a clown. Not only is it scary, it's a wretched existence." "I know the jello shots in skull glasses were a bad idea." "Okay, then. You got a better six word spooky story? Tell me." "I will." "Go ahead!" "Shut up first!" "..." "All of your booze is gone." "...What?" "All of your booze is gone." " What?!" "That's it, John! That's my scary six word story!" " Are you serious?" "Um, yeah?" " Why is the booze gone?!" "Wha - dude! It's not gone!" " Not the booze!" "It's not gone! It was just my story!" " GIVE ME MY BOOZE!" "I will knock you down with my plastic baton, man!"

As the trick-or-treaters reached toward the dish of candy, Missus Lancaster realized that something was very awry. There seemed to be a cold wind blowing from the clustered group of little costumed crusaders, the way it billowed across their capes and gowns and chilled the air in front of them. Watching as Charles from two houses down snatched a handful of mini-Snickers, Missus Lancaster was mute as the nine-year-old boy peered at her with a fanged smile and said, "Happy Halloween!" in an animalistic, very not human snarl.