Salloween

Have I ever mentioned that living with Sally is like permanently cozying up with Charon in a small corner of Hell?
Well, it is. And it is.
I wasn’t sure if I should share this story. After all, neighbourhood children (and one mayor) were terrorized in the unfolding of this tale.
At least one of them is considering opening a Special Victims’ Unit for Sally alone.
Moving on…
Sally, Mort and their new sidekick, Scary Gary (my title) had been whispering and giving each other significant looks for a week.

Now, this alone should be cause for alarm.

And being that Halloween is approaching, doubly so.
We were right to fear.
And I have the film footage to prove it…
We have a gazebo in our back yard.
Large.
Open.

Perfect for a carefully-controlled Halloween celebration, right?

Sally is involved.

Yeah, I can see your perspective shift.

Anyway, this morning, Sally and Mort informed Mom and me they were having a small, socially-responsible get-together tonight in said gazebo and we were invited. 7:00. Costumed. And masked.

Mom and I looked at each other. I could see ‘I’ll-be-under-the-bed’ written all over her face.

We nodded at Sally.

They turned happily and disappeared.

Later, a large truck backed into our driveway and unloaded some tables and other paraphernalia, a boatload of pies, and two people in masks to set everything up.

A few minutes before seven, I peeked into the backyard to see it transformed into a Halloween postcard.

Tables had been set up in the gazebo and loaded with pies and snacks of every kind, with a huge, steaming tureen at the end of the nearer one.

Various figures with glowing eyes stood sentinel around the perimeter of the gazebo, emitting puffs of smoke and alternately shivering or moaning. A chair was positioned in front of each.

The rest of the yard was wreathed in swathes of fog.

The two masked attendants stood on one side of the far table, serving utensils in hand, obviously prepared to…you know…serve.

Sally was dressed as a griffin because, as she had painstaking told me, she wanted angel wings (but really didn’t want to be an angel).

Personally, I had my own opinion about the whole ‘angel’ bit. Some costumes are simply too unbelievable. Who’s with me?

Ahem…

She was holding what looked like a large cherry pie and chatting with the servers from across the table.

I adjusted the skirt of my pirate wench costume, touched the gold hoops dangling from my ears and wished, not for the first time, that Mom was beside me.

She had—probably wisely—opted for her usual spot under her bed.

As I stepped into the yard, the rest of the guests arrived en masse: the kids from the neighbourhood. Seven of them at any rate.

With Scary Gary, dressed rather appropriately as a zombie, in the lead.

At first, the others hovered uncertainly near the gate. Then as Gary, in his best ‘zombie’ fashion, dragged himself across the yard, a witch, a warlock, and a ghost or two quickly followed.

Soon everyone was happily shouting to each other, taking plates of food, finding a chair, and/or chowing down.

Sally, still clutching the pie for whatever reason had stepped back to give them all room.

Her back was to the house.

It was at that moment Mort emerged.

At least I’m assuming it was Mort. But there aren’t many who could pull off the ‘skeleton’ look quite like Sally’s tall, gangly boyfriend.

I remember watching an old movie from Mom’s bygone days about a party that ends in complete and total disaster. Someone at the end asks how on earth it all started and no one knew.

Not so here.

I think I could totally pick the point where disaster first reared its masked and ugly head.

Mort crept up behind Sally and… “Sally!”

She gasped and threw up her hands protectively. Hands that, until very recently, had been holding the pie.

Said pie went straight up.

And stuck to the ceiling of the gazebo.

Stuck.

Did you know pies could do that?

I didn’t.

For just a moment, both Sally and Mort looked up at the pie expectantly. I mean what goes up must come down, right?

It didn’t.

Sally shrugged and turning, punched Mort in the shoulder.

For some reason, I decided I needed to start filming that pie. I took out my phone, pointed, and pressed ‘record’.

A car pulled up just outside the garden gate and four people got out and approached Sally.

“Miss Hart?”

Sally turned to a short, rather squat man dressed in a beautiful tuxedo with matching black mask. She waved. “Hello, Mr. Mayor!”

Did I mention that the city’s mayor lives in our neighbourhood?

Probably not.

Well, he does.

“I’ve brought my kids. Thank you for inviting them!” He turned to the angel and devil beside him. “Taylor? Tyson? Make sure you keep your masks on!”

The boys nodded and headed eagerly toward the far table.

“I must run,” the mayor said. “I’m hosting an international press conference in a few minutes!”

He turned.

And that’s when the pie stopped defying gravity.

Right onto the mayor’s balding head.

Have you seen the damage a very large cherry pie can do to a pristine tuxedo?

I doubt it.

But I probably don’t need to describe.

The mayor was in midstride when it hit and, thrown violently off balance landed heavily on one end of the closest table.

The legs under him collapsed, catapulting the large, smoking tureen at the other end into the air, along with anything else that had been on the table.

Pies began dropping like bombs all over the yard and screaming neighbourhood children boiled about like angry bees.

The great tureen shot with uncanny accuracy right through the garden gate.
Landing with the rather sickening crackle of breaking glass on the front windshield of the mayor’s car.

Where it upended and poured whatever it had contained all over the interior of the formerly spotless vehicle.

I pressed ‘end’ on my video. I mean, who could top that?

Sally turned to the mayor. “Well, you don’t want to be late for your press conference…”

Each month, Karen's Klub joins together to exchange words. Well, actually, we supply the words and Karen shuffles and distributes.
It's totally fun.
And none of us knows who is going to get our words and what they will do with them.

My words this month: witch ~ warlock ~ ghost ~ hell ~ hello, came from the maestro herself, Karen at https://Bakinginatornado.com 

Thank you, dear friend! GREAT words!

Now see what the others in the group have created!

BakingIn ATornado
WanderingWebDesigner
TheCrazy MamaLlama
Climaxed  
Part-timeWorking Hockey Mom