Free Toil & Trouble: A Know Not Why Halloween (Mis)adventure by Hannah Johnson Page B

mummies,” Amber fumes. “I’ve never seen
Kristy this sad before. And I say that as the only person on earth
who has ever been horrible enough to hurt her feelings!”
     
    “She said she was fine with it!”
     
    “Yeah, because she’s the nicest person ever! But
shame on you, Howard!”
     
    “Hey! Shame on Arthur! He’s the one who decided to
negotiate with a ten year old perv!”
     
    Unfortunately, Howie redirects Amber’s fury a little
too effectively. “Where is Arthur???” she growls.
     
    “He’s singing creepy acoustic TSwizzle ballads!
Amber, believe me, he is sad enough.”
     
    “His song choices gravitate worryingly toward
pre-feminist-awakening-era Taylor!”
     
    “Yeah, well, it’s either that or Cora’s Halloween CD,
which is The Monster Mash sixteen frickin’ times in a row! Now, can
you just chase some kids around and pretend you want to eat their
brains and not lecture them about feminism?”
     
    “No,” says Amber stoutly.
     
    “Great,” Howie says, frustrated.
     
    A group of kids wanders into the aisle, decked out in
adorable kiddy costumes and gazing around like they’ve accidentally
stepped into an R-rated movie they were so not ready for. Howie,
who watched Hellraiser at the tender age of seven, remembers the
feeling well.
     
    “Aaaaaaaaah!” they scream at the sight of Amber.
     
    “Aaaaaughhhhhh!!!!” Amber screams right back.
     
    “Gloria Steinem!!!” shouts Mitch with wild
abandon.
     
    The kids turn and run out of the aisle in a frenzy of
screeching.
     
    Howie decides there is no salvaging this, and moves
the fuck along.
     
    He makes it out of the aisle just in time to see the
front door swinging open.
     
    Great. Another innocent child to traumatize.
     
    But then—wait—the new arriver is definitely way too
tall to be an innocent child.
     
    It’s Kristy’s boyfriend, Cliff.
     
    And he is not zombified like he was supposed to be.
Oh no.
     
    Instead, he is dressed as what Howie can only
describe as a sexy man mummy.
     
    The guy is wearing a pair of tightie whities
and—unless Howie is mistaken—arm and leg bands cunningly crafted
from toilet paper. It is, objectively speaking, terrible, but you
gotta admire the guy for going shirtless on a cold cloudy night in
October.
     
    “That’s right, I’m a sexy mummy for gender equality!”
Cliff announces defiantly to the room at large. “Deal with it!”
     
    “Reddy! What are you doing?” Kristy gasps.
     
    “You won’t suffer alone, Kristybee!” Cliff cries.
     
    Arthur stops playing a truly harrowing version of
“Mean” and runs to the front door.
     
    “No,” Arthur says. “Too strange. Go home and put some
clothes on.”
     
    “Why are you naked?” one of the kids asks. “Tyler,
you weren’t supposed to get a guy sexy mummy!”
     
    “I didn’t!” comes Tyler’s protesting shout from
somewhere in the aisles.
     
    “I’m not naked ,” Cliff says. “I’m a sexy mummy
for gender equality. Why is it weird when I wear this, but you just
expect her to dress this way?” He points rousingly at Kristy.
“Yeah. That’s right. Search your souls, people!”
     
    Howie looks at the parents standing around. They’re
all watching with totally baffled faces.
     
    Well. Some of the moms look pretty intrigued.
     
    But Annie Fabray is not among them. Her mouth has
flattened into a thin, terrifying line of disapproval.
     
    “Go,” Arthur says. “Go, go, go. Thank you, the
thought is truly inspiring, but please go—”
     
    Cliff throws one last yearning look Kristy’s way,
then lets himself be pushed back out into the dark night.
     
    “Ewwww!” a boy dressed like Iron Man yells. “Sexy man
mummy! Tyler likes man mummies!”
     
    “I do not!” comes Tyler’s voice from inside the
maze.
     
    “Tyler is ga-ay!”
     
    “None of that, thank you!” Arthur snaps. “Into the
maze.”
     
    “But it’s creepy in there—”
     
    “That’s the point! Go! Please! All of you!