Friend
1: (Answering phone) What’s up?
Friend
2: (On phone) Yeah, I think we need to cancel for Sunday.
Friend
1: What for? You got the flu or something?
Friend
2: What? No – have you even checked the
weather for this weekend? I’m not doing
a haunted hay ride in the pouring rain.
Friend
1: The weather lies.
Friend
2: I doubt the farm’ll even be open that day anyway.
Friend
1: Are you kidding? The last Sunday
before Halloween? This is their bread n`
butter! Besides, since this is
the last Sunday before Halloween and I spent the last three weekends working
double shifts, we are doing this, end of story.
Friend
2: But the weather –
Friend
1: THE WEATHER LIES!
THAT SUNDAY AFTERNOON
(At
a local farm, Friends 1 and 2 stand on a very short line for the haunted hay
ride in the pouring rain)
Friend
2: I can’t believe they stayed open. I
can’t believe there’s even a line right now.
Friend
1: I can’t believe tickets for this thing are over $10 and I clocked this last
bunch coming in at under 10 minutes.
Friend
2: Maybe they all drowned.
(The
farm tractor hauling a covered trailer of hay bales pulls up, discharges five
customers, and idles while the next group with Friends 1 and 2 climb aboard)
Friend
1: Ooh, we should sit towards the back so we’ll be right near where the creepy
creatures barge right on in!
Friend
2: (Plops down onto a squishy hay bale) Must we?
(The
tractor sputters into motion)
Werewolf
Driver: (Shouting back to the passengers over the engine and the deluge) Stay
inside at all times, don’t touch the actors, and have a spooky good time!
Passengers:
WHAT?
Werewolf
Driver: I SAID HAVE FUN, DAMMIT!
(They
wind through fields and forests with hanging figures, artfully arranged scenes
of carnage, and witty tombstones scattered throughout, when they hear a
chainsaw revving up)
Friend
1: Oh boy, here we go, let the terror commence!
Friend
2: There’s no chance of getting electrocuted with that thing, right?
(A
masked fiend bounds onto the trailer, waving around the chainsaw to the
delighted screams of the passengers)
Masked
Fiend: ROOOOOAAAAARRRRR – oop. (Slips
and falls onto the floor)
Friend
2: Are you OK?
Friend
1: (Whacks Friend 2 on the shoulder) Ssh, don’t make them break character!
Masked
Fiend: (Struggles to stand, then weakly flourishes the now-silent chainsaw at
everyone one last time) Roar. (Hops off
the back of the trailer and limps into the woods)
Friend
1: (To Friend 2) And you didn’t even help `em up.
(They
trundle past several rundown shacks that come alive with animatronic devilry at
their approach, with screams and flashing lights to emphasize the horror)
Friend
2: (To Werewolf Driver) Excuse me? Are
the sparks flying out of those buildings part of the show, or is everything
starting to short out?
Werewolf
Driver: …Yes.
(An
evil clown tries to climb on board but is weighed down by a waterlogged costume
and wig, and the terrifying makeup is all runny. Evil Clown gets onto one rung, then waves off
the passengers and hops back off the trailer)
Friend
1: Well, that should be at least a $2 refund.
(At
the last stretch of trail, the demon sheriff car that was supposed to follow them
becomes mired in the mud, the zombies chasing them keep falling on their faces,
and the witch who hops onto the trailer has the skirt tied to a wrist,
revealing jeans and sneakers)
Witch:
(Cackles in everyone’s faces for two seconds, then asks in a low voice) Anyone
here have an umbrella? (They all shake
their head “No”; in a witchy voice) Then I’ll see you all in my witchy brew,
ahahaha – ! (Starts sneezing violently and
almost falls of the trailer while exiting)
Friend
2: (Spitting out water now pouring off the trailer’s roof; to Friend 1) You
know, I’m just not feeling it this year.
Friend
1: Me neither – the kids they hire these days are completely unprofessional.
