Weekly Challenge #184 – Halloween

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Eighty-Four, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was… was…. um…
It’s Halloween!
The excellent theme music is by Guy David.
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Platinum Lightning
	Stephen the Nuclear Man
	Laieanna
	Zachmann
	Lynda
	Justin
	TJ
	JRadimus 1
	JRadimus 2
	Norval Joe
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

---

Platinum Lightning

Every year, on Halloween, my friends and I have a little party. We come to Dave’s house in costume and tell stories around the fireplace whilst drinking warm cider. Mark brings his Ouija board, and we ask the spirits about our futures. We watch the children trick-or-treating outside, and remember when we used to trick-or-treat. Sometimes we watch horror movies, although they don’t entertain us as much as they used to. We talk and laugh together for hours. Then, when the clock strikes midnight, we go out to slaughter young children and devour their souls.
There’s something special about Halloween.

Stephen

When I was a kid, I loved Indiana Jones.
I would walk around with my shirts unbuttoned to my pasty navel,
carrying a string for a whip. I ran around the schoolyard humming the
theme song.
I also loved my Luke Skywalker Underoos. When friends came over, I
would sometimes show them off, coming downstairs wearing nothing but
the orange underwear.
That was decades ago.
Yesterday, a friend asked me what I was going to be for Halloween.
“I don’t know,” I replied. But my hand fidgeted with my shirt
buttons, and I swear my underwear suddenly turned bright orange.

Laieanna

(No Text)

Zachmann

Halloween means a spool of wire, six foot of chicken wire, a lawn funnel, a stack of newspaper, and me asking “Son, what is a Piranha Plant?” Then I wonder if “Would you buy spay paint for me?” is a logical response. I spend a couple of hours helping him cut and bend nine gauge wire into a sphere. Son covers it with chicken wire himself. Shows me the scares. He says it is okay for me to spend the money because he will use it at a Con. I hope he finishes in time. Halloween a holiday for geeks.

Lynda

My favorite time of year! I’m not allowed to enjoy the company of children any other day, but on Halloween there’s an endless supply, and always more follow to enjoy my special treats.
I can’t give you my recipe, it’s a family secret, handed down from my great-great-great-grandmammy Wanda. She escaped the old country with only the shawl on her back and a girl scout under her skirt. Very misunderstood woman. She loved children! Loved to make them cookies. Just like me!
Don’t be shy, kiddies, have another cookie! Watch your fingers! Wouldn’t want them to break!

Justin

Kory peered out the window into the night. Kids all dressed up, ready to cause trouble. The last thing he wanted was to have to deal with was dumb kids armed with spray cans with nothing better to do than tag a country club. He moved outside to sneak up behind them. Just as he switched on the flashlight to get there attention, dark shapes swooped in and tackled them to the ground. The light played over a pale face with blood stained fangs. On second thought, dumb kids were the next to last thing he wanted to deal with.

TJ

A nondescript doorway on a discreet side street hinted at nothing of the bacchanal within. Even so, Millicent’s All Hallow’s Eve masque was the devastation of the year. Cloaks flung aside to reveal the most outrageous, magnificent guises, masquerade most ravishing, a celebration of youth, intrigue and inspiration. Drink flowed like water and designer drugs made the rounds amidst the finery until the stroke of midnight. In the candlelight, the revelers shed every stitch of clothing for a midnight minuet. As the partiers came together on the dancefloor, arch ribaldry transformed to vulnerability and then acceptance. Masks changed, yet remained.

JRadimus 1

Every high schooler has their after-school job to earn money. I’m a little different. Mine’s before school. I’m a paperboy. Every day, 365 days a year, I’m up at O-Dark-Thirty in the morning, treading the dark and lonely streets. I don’t mind the hours or the back-breaking weight of Sunday editions: I’m a Zombie. Things like that don’t bother loathsome undead like me. That’s right: I’m a Teenage Zombie Paperboy. Do you know what sucks most about being a Teenage Zombie Paperboy? Halloween. Do you know how often I’ve been stopped by police for Trick-or-Treating too late on November 1st?

JRadimus 2

It’s the same nonsense every year. And it goes for almost two weeks. It’s not the Trick-or-Treating or the costumes, or any of that. No; what I hate are the lame jokes. I hear the same ones every year. You see, I’m a Zombie. The townsfolk are well-past their pitchfork fetishes, and the rest of the year it’s fine. But every year, from about October 24th, until around November 7th, it’s “Aren’t you a little early?” “Weren’t you a Zombie last year?” “Trick-or-Treating’s over, son.” Next year, I’m going to eat anyone who asks me something stupid. There’s your “Trick-or-Treat.”

Norval Joe

I can hear them out on the front porch right now, pounding on my door. Normally, their scared of me, but for some reason on Halloween they think they can come harass me.
I leave the porch light off, but they must have seen me through the curtains. Now they’ve found the doorbell and are ringing it with abandon.
I throw open the door and shout, “what do you want?”
The snot nosed brats, secure behind their masks and makeup, squeal, “Trickertreet”
For the next prompt I would choose…super hero
I scowl and say, “Here, you can have the butterfingers, I hate em. The snickers are all mine.”

Planet Z

This has got to be the worst Halloween ever.
The Wolfman, he have fleas.
Frankenstein’s monster, always being called Frankenstein. He’s in therapy now. Identity issues.
The Creature From The Black Lagoon, his home got drained. Turned into a golf course.
And nobody’s seen the Invisible Man for ages.
Worst of all, I, Count Dracula, well… I’ve got to see a dentist for a chipped fang.
This party’s a bust. The games are dumb.
Pin The Tail On The Obama Poster?
Tours of a haunted Portapotty?
Who the hell came up with Bobbing For Pizza anyway?
Oh, just stake me!