Toil & Trouble: A Know Not Why Halloween (Mis)adventure Read Online Free PDF Page A

phallus?”
     
    “Falla cy ,” Arthur says, enunciating the last
syllable with more fervor than enunciation has ever known before in
history. “Fallacy. An untrue thing. And, um, never mind. Never
mind. You should probably ask your parents about this later. The
point is, this store is not in the habit of doing ‘sexy’ Halloween
anything. If you’d like a regular mummy, we can do that.”
     
    Tyler stares at him for a long time.
     
    “I’ll tell my mom a shelf fell on me here,” he says
then.
     
    “What?”
     
    “If you don’t get me the sexy mummy. I’ll tell her
one of your shelves fell right on me. Like at the other store.
She’ll sue you for sure. She’s sued before. Lots of times.”
     
    Arthur stares into Tyler’s eyes. Tyler stares gamely
back.
     
    Arthur takes a deep breath. “So you’d like ... a
mummy entitled to her own autonomy and dressed for summer
weather—”
     
    “No, a sexy mummy.”
     
    “—a werewolf, and a chainsaw murderer. Lots of
blood.”
     
    “And guts!”
     
    “And guts.”
     
    “And barf!”
     
    “Why barf?”
     
    “Because it’s cool,” Tyler says. “Can it be bloody
barf?”
     
    Arthur cannot, cannot do this. His Macbethian
instincts have died in the face of sheer horror. Desperately, he
asks, “Tyler, what do you think of ... of singing snow queens and
friendly snowmen? And—oh, I don’t know—an opulent ice palace?”
     
    Tyler’s face hardens. “No way. That’s for
babies.”
     
    “All right, then,” Arthur says regretfully. “Blood
barf it is.”
     
    “The party has to be scary enough that somebody pees
their pants,” the little zealot continues. “Like, at least one
person. But it would be better if it was five. And they’re not
allowed to change their pants, either.” He starts giggling
diabolically.
     
    “You aren’t afraid to dream big, are you?” Arthur
observes.
     
    Tyler shakes his head, grinning. “I bet you’ll pee your pants.”
     
    “I may very well,” Arthur agrees bleakly.
     
     
    +
     
     
    “Has an agreement been reached?” Annie Fabray asks
when she comes back for her son.
     
    “Yep,” Tyler says. He tries to grab all the remaining
candy in his hands, fails, and then decides to just take the bowl
instead.
     
    Arthur likes that bowl.
     
    It’s such a calming shade of sage green.
     
    “That’s ... my bowl,” Arthur whispers as Tyler
wanders out of the office.
     
    “Did you say something?” Annie Fabray asks
sharply.
     
    “Um. No.” Arthur clears his throat. “So, er, Tyler
explained to me what he’d like at the party. Would you like me to
run it by you as well, or—”
     
    “That’s not necessary.”
     
    “Are you sure?” Arthur says meekly.
     
    “Mr. Kraft.” Annie Fabray gives him a look that can
best be translated into, You simple, pitiful idiot. “Who
knows what ten year old children would like more than a ten year
old child?”
     
    It is time, he decides, to reveal to her the full
gravity of the situation.
     
    “Chainsaws were mentioned,” Arthur says.
     
    It doesn’t have the effect that he had hoped for.
     
    “It’s Halloween,” she says mercilessly. “Are you some
kind of All Hallow’s Puritan?”
     
    “Okay then,” Arthur says, bested. “The point is, I’m
not sure if Tyler’s ... vision will necessarily appeal to all of
the local children, and it is open to everyone.”
     
    “I’m sure you’ll find some way to satisfy everyone,”
Annie Fabray answers. After a moment’s ominous pause, she adds, “If
that’s really your priority.”
     
    You simple, pitiful idiot, says the lingering
silence.
     
    “It is,” Arthur says after a moment, a little
squeakily. He clears his throat. “Tyler didn’t offer any specific
ideas in terms of activities, and I know that these kinds of events
usually go smoothest with an agenda, so do you think—”
     
    “For God’s sake, Mr. Kraft. Do you really expect a
ten year old to do everything for