Once upon a time, in the small town of Whiskerville, a moonlit Halloween night was underway. Children romped around in spooky outfits, their laughter echoing around the empty streets. Centered in the crowd was 8-year-old Timmy, dressed as a pint-sized Frankenstein’s monster, and secretly cardiac-arrest-scared of the real fright night.
Right on cue, his mischievous older brother, Billy, dared him to ask for treats from the ‘haunted Haggard House’. He tremblingly approached the ancient wooden door and, mustering his courage, knocked thrice. The door creaked open to an old lady, Miss Haggard herself, surprisingly benevolent and candy-laden.
As he approached his jeering peer group, Billy stealthily switched off all the streetlights. Suddenly, a flickering ghost appeared, wailing ominously, sending a terrified Timmy sprinting home, leaving a trail of candies in his wake. Even Billy cringed slightly at his well-executed prank. Suddenly, out of nowhere, every last candy Timmy had dropped, levitated and flew straight into his bag at home, leaving the pranksters candy-less.
In the end, it seemed like the real sorcery was at work. Or perhaps, it was just Miss Haggard, waving a remote control from her porch, winking at Timmy, who was peeking from his window. ‘Not all spooks are bad,’ she whispered into the wind.