It was Halloween night, the time when the moon shines brightest and the realm of the living mingles with that of the dead. Ten-year-old Billy was excited. He was dressed in his favorite superhero costume and was ready for a night of trick or treating.
Billy’s mother, Mrs. Jennings, handed him a little orange bag. She gave him her usual doting smile, “Promise me you’ll stay safe, Billy.” Billy nodded and with a wave of his little hand, he disappeared into the night.
As the night wore on, Billy gathered quite a haul. His bag was filled to the brim with candy. Still, there was one house Billy hadn’t visited yet. The old manor at the end of the street. It was a gloomy, shadowy, old place, rumored to be haunted.
Summoning all his courage, Billy hesitantly stepped up to the house. He pushed the mansion’s heavy door and stepped inside. And what met his eyes was not the sight of a ghost or monster, but a lavishly laid candy feast. The old “haunted” house belonged to the town’s eccentric millionaire, Mr. Scrooge, who loved Halloween but was too aged to go door-to-door.
With a hearty laugh, Mr. Scrooge garbed in a goofy ghost costume, handed Billy a full-size candy bar saying “This year, the trick’s on you Billy!”