Story 420: Romping in a Winter Wonderland

 (In a house, three children are having lunch in the kitchen)

Parent: (Bursts in, waving tickets) Well kids, it took me five years but we’re finally making it to the North Pole’s Magic Land of Fun and Wonder, hooray!

Kid 1: (Applauds with a mouth full of sandwich) Hooray!

Kid 2: Hate to be the downer here, but isn’t that place for, you know….

Kid 3: Kids?

Parent: Yes!  And you’re it!  Them.

Kid 2: True, but five years is a long time in this stage of our existence.

Kid 3: Yeah – I started shaving last month.

Kid 1: Wait, this isn’t the roller coaster park that just does the Santa bit this time of year?

Kid 2: Nope: this is full-on North Pole.

Kid 1: Oh.  (To Parent) I have to retract my “Hooray” – isn’t that place for kids?

Parent: WE ARE GOING.

            (At the North Pole’s Magic Land of Fun and Wonder)

Parent: (Shoving Kids into the park) Go on, my lovelies, pick a place where you’d like to start!

Kid 2: (Looks around at the festive buildings) Um… can we get something to eat in Mrs. Claus’s Candy and Cookie Kitchen?

Parent: You just ate breakfast an hour ago!

Kid 2: Tell that to my growing body.  (Holds stomach as it growls in agreement)

Parent: OK, we’ll get some snacks there, then it’s off to Santa’s Workshop, yippee!

Kid 3: Ooh, you think they’ll let me play with the power tools if I ask nicely?

Parent: ABSOLUTELY NOT!

(On the extremely long line to see Santa)

Kid 3: Are they gonna make us sit on his lap?

Parent: What do you mean, “make us”?  Don’t you want the full experience of a benevolent father figure granting your heart’s desire?

Kid 3: It’s just that, I think I’m bigger than he is.

Parent: (Waves dismissively) Fine-fine, stand next to him or whatever then.

Kid 2: Can I do that, too?

Kid 1: Me three?

Parent: You two aren’t bigger than he is.

Kid 2: It feels creepy to sit on a stranger’s lap at my age.

Kid 1: Even if he is a right jolly old elf.

Santa Claus: (Waves to the family) Ho-ho-ho, NEXT!  (None of the Kids move)

Parent: You wimps, I’ll do it!  (Runs up to the platform and hops onto Santa’s lap)

Santa Claus: Oof!  You’re quite a big child there, ho-ho-hm.

Parent: Hi Santa, all I want this year is three grateful children, please.

Santa Claus: You and me both – (Holds out a candy cane) take this and scram, you’re cutting off the circulation to my legs.

Parent: (Takes the candy cane and leaps off of Santa Claus) Thank you!  (To Kid 1) Get up there!

Kid 1: (Approaches Santa Claus, remains standing) Hi Santa, could I have a quote-unquote “normal” parent this year?

Santa Claus: Mild embarrassment aside, you don’t know how lucky you have it.  (Tosses a candy cane at Kid 1) Now get outta here and let through the ones who actually want to see me.  (Kid 2 and Kid 3 walk off the line, following Kid 1)

Parent: If those two are gonna skip, can I take their places?

Santa Claus: Don’t be greedy, now beat it!

(The family arrives at a ride featuring flying reindeer)

Parent: Yes!  Let’s go on this one, it’ll be perfect to ride those just as it’s starting to snow!

Kid 1: That sounds more magical than I think it’ll turn out to be.

(They wait on line for an hour, then climb aboard the reindeer that fly in a circle and up-and-down)

Parent: (Waving arms forward) On Dasher, on Dancer, wheee!

Kid 1: (Looking out at the parking lot) Hey, I can see the car from here!

Kid 2: (Looking up) I can see the sun from here!  This is super high, oh-my-gosh!

Kid 3: (Stuck at the bottom of the vertical arc) I think mine’s broken.

(In the car on the way home)

Parent: Well kids, I know this was five years too late for you to fully appreciate it, but I hope you had at least some fun today in this excursion of merriment.

Kid 1: Yeah, the one ride was pretty fun in the blizzard and all.

Kid 2: My favorite was the Elf Chip Cookies.  And the giant hot cocoa with the giant marshmallows.  And the Yule Log Hot Dogs.  And the Peppermint Hamburger Patties.  And the –

Kid 3: I enjoyed seeing the wonder and magic shared by everyone there, and that special feeling only this season brings.  And the Yule Log Hot Dogs were pretty sweet, too.

Parent: That’s the spirit!  And because you all were so good today, I’m going to give you an extra special gift!

Kids 1-3: (Eagerly) What?

Parent: Next year, I’m going without you!

Kid 2: Probably for the best – we’d only slow you down.

Story 419: Delivery for Santa and Mrs. Claus

 (In a crowded post office in mid-December)

Postal Worker 1: (Processing transactions on autopilot) Anything liquid, fragile, hazardous, or perishable –

Customer 1: No.

Postal Worker 1: Need guaranteed two-day delivery for an extra $22.65 –

Customer 1: No.

Postal Worker 1: Need any stamps –

Customer 1: No-no-no-what’s-the-total?

Postal Worker 1: (Types a few keys after weighing the packages) $172.49.

Customer 1: (Roughly swipes a credit card through the reader on the counter) This is the last time I’m sending those brats what they demand on their gimme list – next year everyone’s getting gift cards and they can buy their own garbage.

Postal Worker 1: That’s my philosophy.  (Moves the packages to another area for shipping and hands over the receipt) Happy Holidays.

Customer 1: (Shoves the receipt into a wallet) Thanks, but they haven’t been for years.  (Navigates through the crowd to the exit in a funk)

Postal Worker 1: (Mutters while running a report on the cash register) I hear ya.  (Peers closer at the computer screen as Customer 2 approaches the counter) What do you mean, the drawer’s short $9.72?!  I’ve barely opened it today!

Postal Worker 2: (Stationed at the next register; does not look up from processing a transaction) All I know is, if this sound system plays “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” one more time, my brain’s gonna melt right outta my ears.

Postal Worker 1: (Still staring at the computer screen as Customer 2 places a package on the counter) Yeah, that one and “Jingle Bells.”  Or “Deck the Halls.”  Or – you know what, pretty much all of them; just give me silence as the soundtrack for the rest of the year.  (Glances up and sees Customer 2 is a 10-year-old child) Hello, how can I help you today – need any stamps?

Customer 2: I have a delivery for Santa and Mrs. Claus, please.

Postal Worker 1: (Turns attention back to the computer screen) Letters to Santa go in the special mailbox in the lobby.

Customer 2: Oh no, this actually is a gift – for Santa and Mrs. Claus.  (Postal Worker 1 looks up sharply) I mean, they give so much to all of us, I just wanted to give them a small token of appreciation, if that’s all right.

Postal Worker 1: (Solemnly straightens up, pulls out a golden whistle from an uniform pocket, and fills the building with a resounding blast – all activity on the line, at the counter, and in the back room come to a complete halt) Attention, staff members: WE HAVE A DELIVERY FOR SANTA AND MRS. CLAUS.

(The overhead music screeches to a stop; an inner door at the other end of the lobby flies open and a bundled-up figure driving a dogsled bursts through the crowd to stop in front of Customer 2)

Dogsled Driver: (Points to the box) This the package for the Clauses?

Customer 2: (Nods while pulling out money from pants pockets) Yes, please – how much does shipping to the North Pole cost?

Postal Worker 1: (Wiping away tears) It’s free, bless your little child heart!  Anything liquid, fragile, hazardous, or perishable?

Customer 2: (Pauses, then shakes head) No, nothing like that.  (Picks up the box and hands it to the Dogsled Driver) I think I got here early enough for this to arrive before Christmas Eve, right?

Dogsled Driver: (Straps the box securely to the sled) Oh, don’t you worry young’un: I’ll get this there in less than a day.  (Gestures to the dog team) They fly like the reindeer, and only go on strike half as much.

Lead Dog: That reminds me: we’re due for one on December 28, if that’s convenient.

Dogsled Driver: (Checks a pocket calendar) Yep, all good for a work stoppage then.  (Hops onto the back of the sled)  Mush, please.  (As the dogs pull the sled back through the lobby and out the front door) Onward to the North Pole!

(The other customers and postal workers applaud wildly and weep loudly in equal measure)

Customer 2: (To Postal Worker 1) Wow, thanks – after all this, I hope they like it.

Postal Worker 1: (Loudly blowing nose) Stop, I’m dissolving in a puddle of cuteness overload here!

(In the North Pole, Dogsled Driver arrives at the house of the Clauses, releases the package from its straps, and raps smartly on the front door)

Santa Claus: (Opening the door) Well ho-ho-hold the phone, I haven’t seen you up here in ages!

Dogsled Driver: (Hands over the package) Hiya, Santa – I have a very special delivery for you and Mrs. Claus from a very special child in the Lower 48 of the US of A.

Santa Claus: Aw, isn’t that precious.  (Calls back into the house) Darling!  There’s a delivery – for us!

Mrs. Claus: (Appears in the doorway carrying a blowtorch and lifting up a face shield) Well, that is very kind indeed – (Sees Dogsled Driver) Hello there; why don’t you and your crew come into the kitchen for milk and cookies?  I’ve got them in oatmeal raisin and bacon.

Dogsled Driver: Gee, thanks Mrs. Claus!  You know, I tried extra hard to be good this year –

Lead Dog: Quit yer yappin’: we’re already getting the treats, don’t gild the lily!  (The dogs drag the sled into the house, Driver holding on at the back)

(Santa and Mrs. Claus close the door and bring the package into a brightly decorated room filled with ornament-festooned trees, toys, model villages, and other seasonal knick-knacks.  They open the box and take out several pairs of different-colored comfy socks, along with a note)

Santa Claus: (Reads) “Dear Santa and Mrs. Claus, I hope I got the right sizes, but if not then I hope your magic can take care of that; I included the gift receipts just in case.  Anyway, thank you for all you do every year, and please know that we all appreciate the good will and cheer you bring to this world.  Sincerely, A Grateful Child (My parents say a gift should be given without expecting anything in return so that’s why this is anonymous, but you may know it’s me anyway)”.  Sweet child, Santa always knows!

Mrs. Claus: (Picks up one of the pairs of socks) Oh my, so very cozy!  These’ll be perfect for my sore feet – how thoughtful!

Santa Claus: (While holding up another pair) And just when I was starting to question why I continue to put us all through this.

Mrs. Claus: Don’t you question that every year?

Santa Claus: Some years more so than others.

Story 418: Daylight Diminishing

 FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 5

            (In an office)

Coworker 1: (Blankly staring at a spreadsheet full of numbers on the computer screen; to Coworker 2 sitting nearby) You know, it’s afternoons like these that I start to forget what the outdoors look like.

Coworker 2: (Also blankly staring at a spreadsheet full of numbers on the computer screen) Know what you mean, and it’s about to get worse: this Sunday’s when we turn the clocks back an hour.

Coworker 1: (Perks up a bit) Oh yeah?  Sweet – an extra hour of sleep this weekend.

Coworker 2: That we pay for the rest of autumn and all of winter with fewer hours of sunshine during the day.

Coworker 1: Oh.  (Crumples to the desk as this sinks in) Ohhhh, noooo....

Coworker 2: In a month and a half we start getting a minute of sunshine back each day, but, you know, damage has been done.  Sun’s usually gone by 4:30 the latest for ages; I don’t notice a difference until at least March.

Coworker 1: [Groans into the desk]

Coworker 2: Yeah, you’d think we’d all be used to this by now, but it just feels worse every year, at least to me.  Maybe our political representatives will finally pass a bipartisan bill stopping the whole clock-change bit and there’ll be peace throughout the land, but even if that ever happened there’d still be fewer hours of daylight for a bunch of months outta the year, no matter what hemisphere you’re in.  Only way to avoid it is moving to the equator and get 12 hours of day and 12 hours of night all year long, which I’m too lazy to do.

Coworker 1: (Stands up and shuts down the computer) On that note, I’m leaving for the week and going to bed early Saturday night just so I can revel in the extra sleep and not dwell on the cost.

Coworker 2: (Nods as Coworker 1 leaves, still staring at the computer screen) Have a good weekend – see you dim and early on Monday.

 MONDAY, NOVEMBER 8

(Coworker 2 is at the desk, still staring at the spreadsheet, at Coworker 1 enters)

Coworker 1: Mornin’ – I overslept when the random rooster by my apartment complex didn’t do its thing until way later than usual.  How’d you do with the change yesterday?

Coworker 2: Slept about the same four hours I normally do when gaming on weekends.  My own fault.

Coworker 1: (Starts up the computer and settles in for the work week with a sigh) Yep, here we go again, plunging into increasing night – see you on December 21.

 TUESDAY, DECEMBER 21

 Coworker 1: This is it!

Coworker 2: (Awakens from a half-doze while staring at the same spreadsheet from the previous month) Wha-what, another fire drill?

Coworker 1: No, I’m talking about how today’s the day where we take back the sun!

Coworker 2: (Rubs eye) All right, I admit it, my brain was taking a break back there and is still restarting – maybe say it again slower?

Coworker 1: (Picks up a desktop calendar and points to the date) Winter solstice!  Now our hemisphere’ll start tilting toward the sun again and we’ll get back more hours of daylight, woo-ho!  (Picks up the desk phone to speak into the receiver) Too bad for you all Down Under, but we northerners have suffered enough!  (Hangs up triumphantly)

Coworker 2: You realize it’s only a minute a day, right?

Coworker 1: I don’t care!  I just feel so much better about everything now that the days will be brighter longer!  Our star’s the best, isn’t it?  (Beamingly stares out the window)

Coworker 2: If you’re looking for the sunset to take place a smidgen later than it did yesterday, our windows face east on this side of the building.

Coworker 1: (Still smiling out the window) I know!

Coworker 2: (Turns back to the computer screen and mutters) Oh my.

 MONDAY, FEBRUARY 28

Coworker 1: (Upon entering the office, beelines to Coworker 2 and whispers frantically) Can I talk to you about something?

Coworker 2: Not if you’re going to be creepy about it, no.  (Points to Coworker 1’s chair) Go sit in your spot and tell me from over there like normal.

Coworker 1: (Sits, wheels chair over, and whispers again) I don’t want to say this too loudly and start a panic –

Coworker 2: There’s one other employee on this floor after last year’s budget cuts, so no fear of that.

Coworker 1: Here goes: I don’t think we got the sun back.

Coworker 2: (Looks around the sunlight-filled room) Want to try that again?

Coworker 1: Oh yes, it’s still there, it’s always physically there, but I don’t think we got any of the minutes back like we were promised.  What I mean is, I don’t think the Northern Hemisphere is tilting toward again it like it’s supposed to.

Coworker 2: Whaddya mean?  It’s been lighter longer lately.

Coworker 1: No it hasn’t!

Coworker 2: Well yeah, I believe I said eons ago that you’re not going to notice a real difference until about spring, but we should have, what, about two hours back now?  Still early evening when the sun’ll set.

Coworker 1: Exactly!  Why is why I’m extremely concerned that we don’t!

Coworker 2: (Blinks slowly) We don’t?

Coworker 1: No!  The sun still sets at 4:30 in the afternoon!  We haven’t gotten back squat!

Coworker 2: But I thought… huh, now that you mention it, I guess it is still setting that early; I never notice things like that.

Coworker 1: Exactly again!  Which is what they’re counting on, until it’s too late!

Coworker 2: “They” who?  Whom?  Who?

Coworker 1: The ones who froze Earth at this tilt on its axis so Up Over is on permanent winter and Down Under is on permanent summer!  That region’s residents were my first suspects, but now they have that much longer exposure to UVB-skin-cancer-causing rays and who would willingly do that to themselves?!

Coworker 2: I think you’re just being paranoid – it’s been a rough winter yet again, and you don’t seem to be handling it well.  (Turns back to the computer screen)

Coworker 1: I’ll remind you of that in a few weeks.

 MONDAY, MARCH 14

Coworker 1: (Upon entering the office) Well?!

Coworker 2: (Still staring at the same spreadsheet from two seasons ago) Well what?

Coworker 1: We sprung ahead an hour yesterday morning: did you happen to notice anything yesterday evening?!

Coworker 2: Yeah, I noticed I was still tired from the lost hour of sleep – really threw off my game.

Coworker 1: No; did you happen to notice the sun IS STILL SETTING AT 4:30 P.M.?!

Coworker 2: (Thinks on this a bit, then shrugs) Maybe it’ll set a bit later today, then.

Coworker 1: No it won’t, it’ll be exactly the same as it’s been for the past four months!  The Earth continues on its orbit but it is no longer wobbling on its axis, and no one else seems to have noticed this but me!!!  All news outlets have been mum, no one has taken the bait when I posted this on social media, and even the conspiracy theorists haven’t pounced on this gold mine of an actual conspiracy!

Coworker 2: (Shrugs again while making an edit to one cell on the spreadsheet) So what if it’s not tilting anymore?  Not a big deal if the sun sets at the same time every day, doesn’t bother me, it seems to fit everything else that’s wrong with this world.

Coworker 1: (Sinks slowly onto the chair) Doesn’t bother – ?!  But the crops – animal migrations – the magnetic poles – the planet will EXPLODE, don’t you see that?!

Coworker 2: (Shrugs again while typing) Then good riddance, I guess.

Coworker 1: No-no-no, not good riddance, we have to do something!

Coworker 2: Like what?  Go out and push it?

Coworker 1: Couldn’t hurt!

(That afternoon the sun sets at exactly 4:30 p.m.)

Coworker 1: (Jumps up and points at the night sky outside the window) You see!  You see!  No extra sunshine, no extra daytime, all the plants will wither, and we’re all doomed!

Coworker 2: (Stares out the window with narrowed eyes) Hmmm….

Coworker 1: What’re we gonna do?!

Coworker 2: (Turns away from the window and adds another row to the spreadsheet) Same thing we do with everything else: just keep doing what we’ve been doing, and distract ourselves with any entertainment we can find in the meantime.

Coworker 1: You – !  (Silently freaks out for a few moments, then sits heavily on the chair) All right: since we’ll never get any superpowers to fix this thing, that’s as good a suggestion as any.

Story 417: Thanksgiving and Giving and Giving and….

 (In a family dining room on Thanksgiving, a long table and several extensions are surrounded by seated relatives in order of descending age.  The main poultry and bajillion sides cover the tables, and everyone waits to begin)

Relative 1: (Raises a glass) All right all, before we start the gluttony let’s have a few words of thanks – not from everyone, that would take forever – (The others relax with a sigh) but how about one of the quote-unquote “Senior Members” of our family, eh?  (Elbows Relative 2 in the next seat) That’d be you.

Relative 2: Heh?  Oh yeah, I guess that would be me.  Suppose I can whip up a few words to start us off.  (Stands and raises a glass) Firstly, I’m thankful we’re all here together for yet another year of these shenanigans.

Other Relatives: Awwwww.

Relative 2: Yes, it does my heart good to see two, three, four… five?  Five generations at this table – (Baby cries on cue and is whisked away, not to be seen again for the rest of the meal) and how lucky we are that we’re still able to meet like this, year after year after year after year after… anyway, we’re lucky this one here – (Gestures to Relative 3) still volunteers to host this thing, what, 17 years running now?

Relative 3: Twenty, actually – please don’t let that discourage you all from wanting to take over next year though, it’s a lot of fun, really!  (Looks expectantly around the table as everyone else stares at their plate)

Relative 2: Ah yes, the delicious food, the same every time but we all love it: the day-long-cooked turkey, the lumpy mashed potatoes – (Relative 4 looks up sharply) the cranberries that never come out quite right – (Relative 5 slowly tears a roll into pieces) the salad that’s supposed to be good for digestion but comes too late for all of us at that point – (Relative 6 sharply breaks the wishbone) and this other thing in a casserole dish that I never eat and never remember what exactly it is –

Relative 7: Succotash!  Every year, it’s succotash!

Relative 2: Yeah, gonna forget that in five seconds – all this, down our gullets in a good 10 minutes after literal days of prep, and everyone really is just biding their time for the apple pie and brownies later anyway – (Relative 3 softly grinds teeth) reminds me of the time back in 198…7?  Or was it `86?  I think my second kid was born by then….

(At one of the junior tables, Relative 8 is unobtrusively reading on a cell phone and brings up the headline: “Did You Know: The UK Title of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone Was Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone?”  Relative 8’s eyes slowly widen in horror)

Relative 2: You know, I think it was actually 1993, right before we had that freak ice blizzard, you know, the one with the five-foot-deep frozen snow?  Anyway, back in `93 – or was it `94?  I think we had another ice blizzard then, too – when whoever it was hosting was so focused on all the sides that they forgot the actual turkey!  Clean-up certainly was a lot faster that year.  It’s funny, all my life I don’t think I’ve once done the dishes after a family get-together, although I have put away all the chairs and tables each and every time, which is a pain in the neck and a pain in the back, let me tell you…. Speaking of chairs –

Relative 9: OH MY GOSH, can we eat already, please?!

Relative 2: I’d say that was rude, if I wasn’t secretly hoping someone would stop me – the panic was starting to set in.

Story 416: What’s So Grand About That Canyon?

 (The tour bus parks in Grand Canyon National Park’s South Rim Visitor Center lot and deposits its human contents onto the nearest sidewalk)

Tour Leader: (Assembling the group off to the side) All right everyone, you can either come with me on the planned stops on the itinerary, or you can go do your own thing and meet us back here at 5 p.m. ON THE DOT for our return trip to Vegas.  It’s another four-plus hour drive back, so if you’re a second late, we are not waiting for you.  (Sees a raised hand in the group) Yes?

Friend 1: We getting dinner on the ride back?

Tour Leader: You get breakfast on the ride here?

Friend 1: Disappointingly, no.

Tour Leader: Same answer – anyone else?  (No one else) OK all: disperse!  (Most of the group members disperse; four remain with Tour Leader) Right, the rest you get to ride the shuttle buses with me to all the lookout points and attend a surprisingly fascinating lecture on geology.

Remaining Group Members: Yippee!  (They cheer all the way over to a nearby shuttle bus stop and line up for the short wait)

(Friend 1 and Friend 2 walk to the Visitor Center building)

Friend 2: Isn’t this so exciting?!  We finally made it to the Grand Canyon, one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World!

Friend 1: Eh.

Friend 2: I’m going to ignore that dismissal.

Friend 1: A giant, asymmetrical chasm with a barely visible river at the way bottom, and everyone loses their minds and thousands of dollars a year to stare at it; I just don’t get it.

Friend 2: Oh come on, once you really see it I’m sure you’ll be awe-inspired and breath-taken the same as everyone else.

Friend 1: You know I’m only here to say I hiked down into it.  I’m just glad this is a day trip – we’re losing valuable Vegas time here.

Friend 2: You don’t even gamble: you just wanted to see the dancing waters and living statues on The Strip!

Friend 1: Yeah, but it’s Vegas, baby.  I have to live the Vegas life; whatever happens there stays there; Sin City is calling me –

Friend 2: Remind me of all that when you fall asleep in the hotel room after dinner again.

(A park ranger greets them at a table in front of the Visitor Center)

Ranger: Hello there!  First time at the Grand Canyon?

Friend 1: Is it that obvious?

Ranger: We say that to everyone: makes them feel special either way.  So, need help with anything?

Friend 2: Yes, we actually would like to hike down into the Canyon a bit and need some guidance on the types of trails here.

Friend 1: Preferably ones that are paved flat.

Ranger: Well, you definitely aren’t prepared for this.

Friend 1: Hey!

Ranger: You need lots of water, lots of snacks, be in excellent physical shape, and know your limits.

Friend 1: What’s your point?

Ranger: (Hands a map to Friend 2, the only one of the pair carrying a well-stocked knapsack) I recommend these two trails – (Points to those areas on the map) and keep in mind that it takes twice as long to get back up as it does to go down.  However, the South Rim Trail is paved flat for a long portion and offers fantastic views.

Friend 1: (Peers over at the map) A perimeter trail?  Pah!  We want to walk into the Canyon, have lunch at the Colorado River once we reach the bottom, walk up the other side to the North Rim, walk around that to get to the East Rim, and go along that to end back here, paying our respects along the way to each of the First Nations who still live here – maybe cutting over to the West Rim and back if, you know, we have a bit of time toward the end.

(Friend 2 has been slowly shaking their head during this; Ranger stares at Friend 1, then laughs hysterically)

Friend 2: We’ll probably stick to the South Rim Trail and maybe one of these – thanks!  (Grabs Friend 1’s arm to lead both of them to a shuttle bus stop)

Friend 1: (Looking back at Ranger, who is still laughing and now banging the table in glee) A bit rude, don’t you think?

Friend 2: Did you even read up on this place before we planned the trip here?!

Friend 1: What’s to read up?  We’re gonna be walking around staring at a giant hole filled with a bunch of rocks!

Friend 2: I think I may leave you here.

(They ride the shuttle to the South Kaibab Trail stop and walk from there to the trailhead – several signs on the way warn of the dangers of dehydration and hyperthermia)

Friend 1: All this fuss over a walk in the park – (Finally sees the Grand Canyon in full view) oh.

Friend 2: (Spreads arms wide) Here it is!  (Takes out a camera and walks slightly closer to the edge for pictures) Ahhhhhhh, so majestic.  (To Friend 1, who still is staring at the view) You need to sit down?

Friend 1: (Gulps) N-no, just feeling a bit existentially insignificant right now; I’ll be fine in a second.  (Suddenly realizes a large elk has approached) Oh, hello there.  Want a granola bar?  (Starts to reach into pants pocket)

Friend 2: (Rushes over) Don’t give the pure animal our chemical rot!  (Drags away Friend 1)

Friend 1: But it’s granola!

Friend 2: Haven’t they suffered enough?!

(Friend 2 drags Friend 1 to the trailhead and they begin their descent)

Friend 1: (Pauses to stare down at the multiple switchbacks along the path into the Canyon, filled with tourists) Huh – lot of people with ski poles here, yet not a drop of snow in sight.

Friend 2: Those help with hiking; for you, just keep a steady pace and don’t rush.  (Continues down the path)

Friend 1: Ha!  You’re talking to the local park trail hiker expert here: I can walk a mile in less than the average 20 minutes!  (Starts walking after Friend 2, muttering) I know what I’m doing.

 FIVE MINUTES LATER

Friend 1: Slow down!

Friend 2: I have slowed down!  Any slower and I’d be moving backwards!

Friend 1: (Panting while stopping for a drink of water, holding one hand against the Canyon wall for support) I think – the altitude – is getting to me – is this the bends?

Friend 2: The bends would be the ocean, but you’re right about the altitude; if you’re having trouble with that then you should go back.

Friend 1: NEVER!  We are making it to the bottom at all costs!

Friend 2: I’d like to make it at least to Ooh Aah Point, so I can stand there and go “Ooh, aah.”

Friend 1: Haven’t we been doing that this entire time?

(Hikers with ski poles pass them on the way down)

Hiker 1: (To Friend 1) You all right?

Friend 1: Just because we’re all on this deceptively dangerous incline together does not mean you are welcome to be familiar with strangers.

Hiker 2: (To Hiker 1 as they continue on the trail) That one’s a helicopter ride back up.

Friend 1: I heard that!

Friend 2: Want to rest some more or keep on going?

Friend 1: (Recaps the water bottle) No: I am ready.  I can face anything now, even this mockingly vertical trail.

 TWO MINUTES LATER

 (Friend 1 is hugging the ground and shimmying backwards down the trail; Friend 2 impatiently waits at a turn up ahead)

Friend 2: I repeat: I can go back up with you if you want.

Friend 1: (Coughing up dust and pebbles) Nope!  You go on ahead – I’ll catch up in a second.  (Slides down a bit on some smooth rocks)

(A mule train with tourists steadily passes them on its way back up the Canyon)

Mule Tour Guide: (To Friend 1) You need to go back up, now.

Friend 1: I take no orders from animal exploiters!  (To the tourists as they pass) That’s right!  I highly doubt the mules actually enjoy lugging your sorry selves up and down this treacherous pit!  (Raises a fist in the air) Free the mules!  (Slides down the trail some more)

Friend 2: (Carefully hurries over and helps Friend 1 stand) Here – we’re going back to the top.

Friend 1: (Mildly delirious) But – Ooh Aah?

Friend 2: This is close enough for me.

 ONE HOUR LATER

(They stagger to the beginning of the trailhead and pass a few hikers having a picnic)

Hiker 1: (Clapping) Woo-hoo!  You made it!

Friend 1: (Being supported by Friend 2) We are not friends.

(Friend 2 leads Friend 1 to an open area looking out over the Grand Canyon where they sit with food and water)

Friend 1: (Slightly recovered) Well, that certainly wasn’t like the park trails at home.

Friend 2: That’s pretty much what everyone has been telling you since before we got here.

(They stare at the view for a while in silence; a squirrel approaches them, looking for food)

Friend 1: Heh – I read that you shouldn’t feed the squirrels around here and make sure they don’t bite you, `cause they carry the bubonic plague.  Can you believe it, the bubonic plague?  Feels so medieval.

Friend 2: (Stares at Friend 1) Out of all the history and culture and science surrounding this place, that’s what you retained?!

Friend 1: It struck my sick fancy.

Story 415: Reverse Porch Pirates on the Residential Seas

 (While walking from the car to the condo unit, Resident checks a message on the phone that shows a package had been delivered; on arrival at the front door, it is seen that no package awaits.  Squinting closer at the photo of the delivery on the phone, realization dawns upon Resident)

Resident: Wait a minute – that is not my front door!  (Looks at own front door and back at the photo again to confirm) They delivered it to the wrong address!  Great, how am I ever gonna figure out which – (Recognizes the “Keep Out!” and similar signs posted on the door in the photo) oh it’s the next hallway over.

(Resident goes to the next hallway over, stares at the now-empty space where the package was delivered, and knocks on the door.  On the other side, a figure wearing a stereotypical pirate outfit opens it with one hand while holding an umbrella drink in the other; a large group of similarly-dressed colleagues are assembled in the living room, partying with DJ’d music)

Captain: (To Resident) Ahoy, matey – who be ye?

Resident: Hi, I’m your neighbor from the next hallway over –

Captain: Aye?

Resident: – and I had a package delivered today –

Captain: Aye?

Resident: – and I think it was delivered here by mistake.

Captain: Aye.

Resident: …Well?

Captain: Aye?

Resident: Was it delivered here?

Captain: Aye.  `Twas.  (Reaches over to a nearby table and holds up a pair of novelty socks) These be it?

Resident: Ah, yes, great!  (The two stare at each other for a few moments) Soooo….

Captain: Aye?

Resident: Could I have them back then?!

Captain: Nay.  (Tosses away the socks; they land on a dancing crew member)

Resident: What?!

First Mate: (Shouts from serving drinks at the bar stationed next to a lamp table) N – A – Y; means “No.”

Resident: I know what “Nay” means!  (Back to Captain) Why not?!

Captain: You see, young me-hearty, me and me crew here have recently retired from plunderin’ the high seas, so now rather than us goin’ to get the booty, we take the booty that be comin’ to us, you savvy?

Dancing Crew: Savvyyyyyy!!!!

Resident: Well, no, that’s not right – it was clearly addressed to me!

Captain: Ah, but in cases such as these, possession be 10/10ths of the law.

Dancing Crew: Yarrrrr!!!

Resident: (Holds up the phone with the screen facing Captain) But the courier who messed this up sent me a picture of it, so you’ve gotta give it back `cause the courts’ll side with me anyway!

Captain: (Downs the rest of the umbrella drink, smashes the glass onto a nearby wall, and draws a cutlass to point at Resident) What need we of courts when this can be settled as true buccaneers of the seven seas, eh, matey?

Dancing Crew: Arrrrr!!!

Captain: Aye.

Dancing Crew: Ayyyyye!!!

Resident: I’m not fighting you!

Captain: Aha!  Ye be a coward, then!

Resident: I be – I mean, I’m not getting into a knife fight over a pair of socks!

Captain: How dare ye!  This be a cutlass!  (Shakes said cutlass in Resident’s face)  It can slice a grapefruit in perfect twain and yet leave the pulp entirely intact with nary a drop spilt – let us see a piddlin’ knife do that, I ask ye!

Resident: Whatever: I’ll just call the cops on you for theft of property and threat of dismemberment.  (Starts dialing)

Captain: What about yer sense of honor?!

First Mate: (Shouts from the bar) But Captain, we have none.

Captain: Stow yer blowhole!

Resident: (On the phone) Yes, I’ll hold.  (To Captain) Everywhere you call lately, they put you on hold immediately.

Captain: We’ll be havin’ none of yer first world problems around here, matey!  (Uses the cutlass to pick up the socks from where they had been dumped onto the couch at some point and flings them at Resident, who fumblingly catches them) That booty was acquired fair and square, but in the spirit of high adventure, we gift them back to ye.  (Bows graciously)

Resident: (Disconnects the call and shakes the socks at Captain) That’s all you had to do from the beginning.  (Starts to leave when Captain holds out the cutlass to block the path)

Captain: (Leans in toward Resident) Next time, matey, we be keepin’ the spoils.  Permanently.

Dancing Crew: Huzzah!

Captain: (Turns back to Crew) Another round!  Me throat’s extremely parched with all this negotiatin`!

Dancing Crew: Ayyyye!!!!

(Captain slams the door and the dance music is raised to even higher decibels)

Resident: (Walks back to the other hallway while shaking head in disbelief, looks down at the socks, holds them out, and stops) I don’t believe it – they shipped me the wrong size!

Story 414: How to Get Out of a Horror Movie Alive, Part 2

 Scenario 4: A horribly mutated insect, hundreds of times the usual size, predictably escapes the lab of its creation and indulges its taste for human flesh, tearing apart the local infrastructure in the meantime

(In the lab that was the scene of the crime against nature, a group of scientists huddle up)

Scientist 1: It attacks without warning; it covers its victims with a viscous, acidic fluid before it devours them whole; it seems impervious to bullets, bombs, electric shocks, and that one bread knife over there; and to top it all off, scans show it’s ready to lay a whole bunch of eggs on the roof that it will then stop at nothing to protect and will cover the Earth with its indestructible spawn when they all hatch!

Scientist 2: (Raises hand) Question: if it’s going to lay eggs, doesn’t that actually make “it” a “she”?

Scientist 3: Yeah, now she’s just a momma trying to protect her babies.  Although, won’t she need a mate first to fertilize them?

Scientist 4: Ooh, should we create one for her?

Scientist 1: Don’t make this life-and-death situation ethically complicated!  We must wipe them all out, now!  I mean, look what just one of these monsters did to our little town – imagine what an army of them would do to a major metropolis!

Scientist 3: I say we take our mad colleague who created this mess and feed `em to her – that should close the loop nicely.

Scientist 1: Our mad colleague was her first meal!

Scientist 3: Oh right, forget about that.  I withdraw my proposal.

Scientist 2: (Raises hand again) Hold on everyone: I have an idea….

(Hours later, the horribly mutated insect returns from her most recent meal foray, crawls up the outside of the lab building, and scampers across the roof to continue her insect world-building when she crosses a trip wire that releases a giant diamond fly swatter, which swings down and crushes the creature against the roof.  The scientists run out from their hiding place and stand in a circle around the remains)

Scientist 2: Yep: diamonds still remain the hardest substance on the planet.

Scientist 1: At last: the monster has been destroyed, and the world is safe from yet another human-made disaster.

(They stare at the smushed body some more)

Scientist 3: Sooooo… who’s going to clean this up?

 Scenario 5: Through an unfortunate close encounter, an everyday schlub gets transformed into a monster and now struggles with newfound powers and appetite

(In a café, the transformed schlub, covered in copious amounts of body hair, sporting fangs, rotting flesh falling off, and antennae swiveling around, sits at a table sipping coffee with Best Friend)

Schlub: (Prehensile tongue shoots out and slurps in a muffin; swallows and smacks lips) Nope – none of my former food and drink vices are doing it for me anymore.  I think my body is turning me toward one, single menu item: human being.  Which I don’t think counts as cannibalism since I’m clearly no longer a human being myself.  (Scratches ear with foot)

Best Friend: Mm.  (Sips coffee) You sure about that?  Wanting to eat people, I mean.

Schlub: Usually how these things go.

Best Friend: Just because you don’t like the food you used to eat doesn’t mean an all-human diet’ll do the trick.  Maybe your body’s just rejecting processed foods now.

Schlub: That’s ridicu – oh.  You think so?

Best Friend: You should try farm-to-table.

Schlub: Hmmm….

(Schlub goes to an organic farm and is served fresh fruit and vegetables and non-hormone-saturated animals)

Schlub: (Using claws to cut food on the plate; speaks to the farm family with a full mouth) This meal is AMAZING!  I no longer have the urge to devour everyone in sight!  And I can feel the chemicals built up in me over the decades practically melting away!  You know, everyone should eat like this, every day!

Farmer 1: (Gesturing to Farmer 2 and children that they can put away the pitchforks they had at the ready) We’ve been telling everybody that all our lives.

Schlub: I bet!  If I’d known it’d be like this, I’d’ve wished that monster had gotten me years ago!  Except for the body hair – could do without that.

Scenario 6: A possessed doll stalks a family in their apartment

Doll: (Slowly opens the creaking door to a bedroom where the family is hiding; the doll is wielding a butcher knife and grinning sadistically) Trick or treat!  Oh wait, has that been used already?

Relative 1: Now!

(The family members pounce on the doll with a large blanket and take the bundle into the kitchen where they set it on fire in the sink.  As the bundle burns, they hold up all the religious books over the remains; they then scoop up the ashes and take them to a nondenominational cemetery to sprinkle them around a tree to feed new life)

Relative 2: So, what if the ashes reassemble themselves to begin the cycle of evil anew?

Relative 1: The local dog walkers who come through here should take care of that before it becomes a problem.

Scenario 7: The killer is calling from inside the house

Resident: (Answers ringing phone) Mmm-yello?

Killer: Howdy.  I’m upstairs and soon I’ll be coming downstairs to kill you.

Resident: `Kay, thanks for the heads-up.  (Leaves the house)

Killer: (Stands at a upstairs bedroom window, still holding the phone and watching Resident walk down the street while dialing 9-1-1) I probably should revise my script.

Story 413: How to Get Out of a Horror Movie Alive, Part 1

 Scenario 1: Trapped in an excessively huge mansion by a vengeful killer ghost, and circumstances

(In the ostentatious drawing room, Spouse 1 and Spouse 2 are seated in huge armchairs reading wordy tomes when the killer ghost flies in, knocking knick-knacks off the many, many shelves and making all sorts of ruckus)

Spouse 1: (Barely looking up from the book) I say, Nanny?

Nanny: (Pops head in through the doorway) Yeah?

Spouse 1: I know it wasn’t in the job description, but would you mind solving the mystery of why this dratted specter haunts our family generation after generation and now also has a disturbing connection with our off-putting child?  We’ve endured it gracefully for centuries, but the constant property destruction and the occasional throat-slashing tend to wear on one.

Spouse 2: Quite.  (Blinks as a vase crashes on their head)

Nanny: (Nods) Uh-huh, I could do that, ORRRRRR.... (Tosses the off-putting child into the room) I could quit and drive right on outta here.

Spouse 1: But this is your first day.

Nanny: (Ducks as flames shoot overhead) That it is, and I’ve seen enough, byeeeee!!!!  (Slams the door, then opens it again to pop head back in through the doorway) By the way, I’ve called Child Protective Services on you lot.  (Slams the door again and speeds off with squealing tires and plowing through decorative hedges)

(Spouse 1 and Spouse 2 stare at each other as the off-putting child and the killer ghost begin to merge souls, and the mansion’s very foundations quake)

Spouse 2: My word.

Scenario 2: An unstoppable, possibly non-human serial killer is working through a group of young adults at a campsite

(The four bedraggled remaining campers have gathered in a circle next to a small cliff for cover)

Remaining Camper 1: Right everyone, so we’ve tried knives, we’ve tried axes, we’ve tried javelins, flamethrowers, boulders, canoe paddles, a soccer ball, fishing tackle, some kid’s left-behind tricycle, glue, and even that one disturbingly smuggled-in gun that we need to have a conversation about later, and this dude still is on the move.  All phone signals and lines are out so no one is coming to save us, and our friend managed to slash all our cars’ tires and drain all the gas tanks while we weren’t looking.  I am officially out of ideas and supplies, and now open to any suggestion no matter how ludicrous.  (Remaining Camper 2 raises a hand) Yes, thank you, what?

Remaining Camper 2: We could just walk out of here.

Remaining Camper 1: We – what?

Remaining Camper 2: Town’s not too far away; we just follow the main drive back to the highway.  I doubt we’d even have to go through the woods to get there.  Dude can have the place all to himself then, which is what I think this is really all about, deep down.

Remaining Camper 1: But – but – we’d never make it!  We’d get picked off one-by-one, either by this weirdo or by some ravenous bear, right before we’ve achieved victory!

Remaining Camper 2: I doubt it: we’d be in a group and the dude always waits until we’re alone before going after somebody, and if we make enough noise the bear won’t want to be bothered.

Remaining Camper 1: Oh.  I guess.

Remaining Camper 3: Don’t run, either – it’ll seem like we’re panicking.

Remaining Camper 4: But don’t walk too slowly, either – it’ll seem like we’re overconfident and deserve everything we get.

Remaining Camper 1: All right!  Let’s just go before this starts feeling like a bad idea.

(The Remaining Campers walk out of the camp and reach the nearby town safely)

Serial Killer: (Bursts into the clearing 10 minutes after they left) Got ya! – oh, they just walked out of here didn’t they.

 Scenario 3: Worldwide zombie uprising

(In a house where a couple of survivors are holed up)

Survivor 1: I have an idea: remember back in the `60s when people were building those fallout shelters in case the Cold War turned hot-hot-hot?

Survivor 2: Yes, and we all hypocritically laugh at their paranoia – why bring it up, aren’t they all filled in by now?

Survivor 1: Not the one my grandparents built: we figured something’d drive us in there eventually; who’d’ve thought it’d be zombies?

(Survivor 1 and Survivor 2 sneak off to the fallout shelter and seal themselves in while the zombies are occupied with other fodder)

Survivor 1: (Surveys the well-stocked underground house) Whelp, this should keep us for five years.

Survivor 2: And what if whatever disaster this was planned for lasted longer than five years?

Survivor 1: ….

 FIVE YEARS LATER

 Survivor 1: Whelp, by now the afflicted creatures should’ve run out of human brains to sustain them and their misery has permanently ended as they slowly starved to second death – I’m going up top to have a peek.

Survivor 2: And what if they can be sustained with other animals’ brains?

Survivor 1: ....

(Survivor 1 opens the hatch and emerges from the shelter to see a world devastated by floods, fires, eradicated flora and fauna, and the Sun blocked by permanent clouds.  Survivor 1 then sees a lone figure appear ominously nearby)

Zombie: (Points at Survivor 1) Braaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiii –

(Survivor 1 zaps the zombie with a stun gun, jumps back into the shelter, reseals the hatch, and turns to Survivor 2)

Survivor 1: So, wanna watch a movie?

Story 412: The Real Haunted House

 (Friend 1 and Friend 2 park in the overflowing lot at the multi-purpose farm, then head over to the main entrance to stand on the extremely long line for tickets)

Friend 2: (At the sign reading “Line Wait Time: Approx. 40 Minutes”) This place had better be worth the admission price, especially after last year’s debacle.

Friend 1: Hey, we both wanted to do something different then – is it my fault their only employee was an actual werewolf?

Friend 2: Keep your voice down: do you really want everyone here to know about that?

Friend 1: (Whispers) Oh right.  (Back to normal volume) You have to admit though, we were never in any real danger except what we inflicted upon ourselves.

Friend 2: I’d agree, if the place had been more upfront about the whole thing.

Friend 1: Where’s the scary fun in that?

Friend 2: (After a few moments of the line inching up and them staring out at the eerily twilit corn maze, eerily shadowed farmhouse, and eerily distant highway) So, this haunted house is just the usual actors jumping out at us and hidden speakers playing Halloween’s Greatest Hits and impressive decorations and screams all around, right?

Friend 1: (Stares at the farmhouse a bit longer, then turns to Friend 2 distractedly) Huh?

Friend 2: I said, this place just has regular human beings banging the walls and getting up in our faces in a less-than-30-story building, right?

Friend 1: Oh sure, sure.  (Stares at the farmhouse some more) Surrrrre….

Friend 2: (In a flat vice) What aren’t you telling me?

Friend 1: Oh nothing, nothing; this place just caught my eye `cause the ad said it was a “Real” Haunted House – they forgot the quotes around “Real,” though – I was tempted to call the newspaper’s advertising department but then realized it was this place that’d created the ad so they’d have to be the one to fix it and it’d be too late by now so, yeah.

Friend 2: (Staring at Friend 1) I’m going to remind you of this conversation after tonight’s certain disaster.

Friend 1: No need.

(An hour later, an employee leads Friend 1 and Friend 2 into the farmhouse with four other guests.  The employee is dressed as a lazy witch: half a hat, a shawl thrown over a sweater and jeans, and a fake wart threatening to fall off a cheek)

Employee: (Addressing the group inside the farmhouse after closing the front door) All right: this was a working farm in 1840-whatever; you can read all about the soul possession and nightly raves the family here had on the large sign you passed on the way in; follow the glow-in-the-dark arrows on the floors to navigate through the house and exit out the back; don’t touch anything; if you break any of the property you will be recorded on camera and billed starting at $200; I am legally required to remind you that any and all of the ghosts, goblins, ghouls, demons, monsters, trolls, zombies, etc., etc. you may or may not encounter are real due to the current property owner’s securing them for your entertainment, the effort of which is reflected in your ticket price; that purchase indemnifies and holds harmless said owner and all ghosts, goblins, etc., etc... that’s about it, have a spooktacular time, bye.  (Pushes through the group to exit the front door and lock it)

(The farmhouse is suddenly plunged into darkness when all the faint hall lights go out, save for the glowing arrows on the floor leading to a kitchen; a muted cackling is heard through the ceiling directly above their heads, a rattling chain speaks close by, and a neon digital clock on a wall buzzes to life and begins counting down from 30 minutes.  Most of the group pull out their cell phones and activate the flashlight app, illuminating their faces)

Friend 1: So, who’d like to go first?

Friend 2: That sounds like a volunteer.

Guest 1: All that stuff about the ghosts here being real was just a joke, right?  It’s just a bunch of teens and sound effects, right?  Right?!

Guest 2: You are not wimping out on me again this year!

Guest 1: I’m not wimping out!  It’s just sometimes people get carried away at these things – I’m only being sensibly cautious!

Friend 2: Supposedly, this is a really real haunted house.  As in, really-real.

Friend 1: Real is such a subjective term.

Friend 2: Is it?!

(Employee unlocks the front door and leans inside, knocking the half-hat even more askew)

Employee: Clock’s ticking, people, get a move on!

Guest 1: But –

Employee: No refunds!  (Slams the door and locks it again)

Guest 3: Guess that’s that, then: we have no choice but to go forth into the terrifying unknown.

Friend 2: Technically, we always have a choice –

Friend 1: No we don’t!  Onward!  (Leads the way to the sinister kitchen)

(As the group enters the room, there is movement by the low-lit fireplace; approaching, they see several trolls playing cards on the hearth)

Troll 1: King of clubs?

Troll 2: (Checks hand) Go fish.

Troll 3: (Sees the humans) Hi there!  Want us to deal you in?

Group: AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

(They flee the room, making sure to follow the arrows)

Troll 2: (To Troll 3) I keep telling you, don’t bother being friendly to them, they simply don’t appreciate it.

Troll 3: Can’t help myself.

(The humans run across the hallway to a family room, where cursed children are playing marbles and destroying the furniture)

Cursed Children: No grown-ups!  No curfew!  No rules!  Wheee!!!

Group (Except for Guest 4): AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Guest 4: What a bunch of brats!

(The cursed children simultaneously stop, turn to stare at the guests, and open their mouths)

Cursed Children: Waaaaahhhh!!!!

Friend 1: Oh no, crying children, my worst nightmare!

(The group run out of the room and are stymied by the arrows pointing in two directions, one set up the staircase and one set toward the open basement door)

Friend 1: Wanna split up?

Guest 1: Are you kidding?!  We’ll never be seen again!

Friend 1: How about we do the basement first and upstairs after?

Guest 1: Are you kidding?!  I don’t even do regular basements!

Guest 2: Wimp!

(Ominous banging and moans are heard from below)

Friend 1: Maybe we should take a vote.

Guest 1: Are you kidding?!

(A nearby speaker on the wall crackles)

Speaker: Keep moving, folks!  Don’t make us come in there and kick you all out!

Guest 3: Was that a ghost?

Guest 4: Nah, probably just the lazy witch again.

Friend 1: Executive decision!  (Runs full speed ahead down the basement stairs while the others stand and stare; within a minute, Friend 1 runs back up the stairs and slams the door shut, out of breath with an ashen face)

Friend 2: What was down there?

Friend 1: Bothing – noring – I mean bothering – let’s go upstairs!  (Runs up the stairs to the second floor)

(After hesitating a moment, the others run upstairs and they all follow the arrows to the master bedroom; upon opening the door, they see several vampires surrounding a pal drinking from a steaming goblet)

Vampires: Chug!  Chug!  Chug!  Chug!

(The group quietly closes the door and proceeds as a clump to the attic stairs)

Friend 1: Maybe the twist’ll be it’s just bats up there.

Friend 2: Not another word out of you.

(They creak up the stairs slowly; at the top, they see a variety of monsters gathered around a table that has a boatload of candles – a decaying ghoul is attempting to blow them all out.  Guest 1 points a shaking hand at an overhead banner that reads “HAPPY 4,287,633,815,990^TH BIRTHDAY!!!!”  After blowing out all the candles, the Birthday Ghoul is given a wrapped present by a banshee)

Birthday Ghoul: Aw, you guys, this really is too much!

Friend 1: (To Friend 2) Think we can ask for a piece of cake?

Friend 2: I doubt it’s meant for our digestive systems.

(Guest 2 is tapped on the shoulder and turns to see a smiling demon)

Demon: Howdy, sinner – you can come with me now.

Guest 2: (Steadily increasing in pitch) Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa – ?????!!!!!!

Guest 1: Oh go on – don’t wimp out on me!

(A human wearing a shirt that reads “SECURITY” bounds up the attic stairs and quickly squirts the demon with a spray bottle that has a cross printed on the label)

Demon: (Wiping face) Ow!  Right in my eye!

Security: No souls here, how many times do we have to tell you?!  (To Guest 2) You all right?

Guest 2: Whaaaaaa – ?!

Security: Good.  (Turns and heads back downstairs) You all have less than five minutes on the clock so exit the farmhouse immediately when you’re back on the first floor.

(The group starts to run downstairs; Friend 1 peaks back into the attic)

Friend 1: Happy Birthday!

Birthday Ghoul: (Waves the unwrapped present, which is a hand-knit shawl) Thank you!

(Friend 2 yanks Friend 1 down the attic stairs, and the group huddles together to run down the main stairs and head to the back door.  Before they reach it, a zombie hand pops up from the broken floorboards in front of them)

Group: AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Zombie: (Crawls up out of the floor and stands while brushing off dirt; small limbs also fall off) Am I too late?  Are you all on your way out?  (They nod in terror) Darnit – I snuck away for a quick break after the last group and lost track of the time.  Still, guess it won’t be a total loss.  (Clears throat and straightens up) Brains?

Group: AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

Zombie: (Takes a tally sheet out of a rotting pocket and makes a mark on it) Good, good – at this rate I’ll reach my quota by 11:00.

Group: AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Zombie: Oh sorry, you can go now. 

(The zombie steps aside and the group run out the back door, screaming all the way.  A figure suddenly blocks their path and they stop running but continue screaming)

Property Owner: Hiya, folks!  (They stop screaming) Thanks for visiting my Real Haunted House tonight, where everything you came across in there is an ab-so-lutely, 100%, genuine spook, straight from the afterlife! Would you mind taking an exit survey about your experience?  (Guests 1-4 resume screaming and run into the corn maze) Typical reaction.  (To Friend 1 and Friend 2) You two interested?

Friend 1: We get paid for it?

Property Owner: Free admission for another tour through the farmhouse – outhouse included this time.

Friend 2: ABSOLUTELY NOT!

Friend 1: This one’s easily spooked.  (Is faced with grinding teeth)

Property Owner: Maybe I’ll catch you folks later.  (Heads back to a trailer to continue watching the house’s security cameras while eating popcorn and laughing)

Friend 2: (Glaring at Friend 1) How do you keep finding these places?!

Friend 1: (Watching the lazy witch fly a motorized broom artfully across the full moon) Just lucky, I guess.