Seasonal Shennanigans Writing Contest 2020: msjanny's entry
It is a dark and stormy night.
It is alsoHalloween the middle of the Harvest Carnival. Thusly, there are many villagers just hanging out at the fairgrounds. (This is a fictional universe where there is no pandemic, so social gatherings are still permittable. Villagers can't get sick, anyways.)
Someone takes a sip of punch and spits out the tip of Chester's tail. This is quite normal, as disembodied body parts are just part of the Dragonsmaw Manor aesthetic. The mayor cannot be expected to keep track of all his limbs at all times. He is a busy cat, after all.
There is not much to do at the fairgrounds after spinning the wheel, bobbing for "apples", and feeding Kieran's sweet tooth. Some villagers have ventured off into the woods or caves. Most of them return. Nobody dares to try a sip of the soup the Crimson Witch is brewing in her cauldron. A good broth is not made by inviting literally everyone to contribute some ingredients. There is a recipe card floating on the surface. It is probably a good source of fiber.
Mostly, villagers just sit around waiting for the hour to end so they will have something to do again.
Someone is struck by a flash of genius. "Hey, let's go trick-or-treating!"
"Sure," her friend says, not wanting to disagree. Also, her friend is bored.
Soon enough, there is a gaggle of villagers preparing to run around knocking on strangers' doors. None of them are quite sure how trick-or-treating differs from begging, but they are all pretty sure what they are about to do is quite law-abiding, so they jauntily head off to the first house.
The house looks exactly like all Dragonsmaw Manor Houses: two-storied and red-roofed. There are probably thousands of construction workers employed here but they all build identically. This standardization is one of the things that keeps Mayor Chester so busy.
The trick-or-treaters notice something odd when approaching, though. All the jack-o-lanterns the residents have lovingly carved (presumably for the contest) have been lovingly smashed. Perhaps this is an artistic choice, the trick-or-treaters think. The trick-or-treating goes successfully even though nobody answers the door—all of them just find an extra Bloop Candy Pail in their inventories.
The next house is much the same, down to the smashed pumpkins and all. Perhaps the residents do not know how pumpkin puree is made, the trick-or-treaters think. Once again, nobody answers the door, just a Bloop Candy Pail for everyone.
The third house, like a third pea in a pod, is characteristically Dragonsmaw. Its pumpkins are uncharacteristically smashed. Perhaps smashed pumpkins make better lanterns than the traditional carvings, the trick-or-treaters think. This time, an elderly canid who introduces themself as my skin suit answers the door to hand everyone a toothbrush.
Nobody wants to ask whose skin suit 'my' refers to. Some questions are better left unasked and unanswered. One intrepid trick-or-treater takes the opportunity to ask the other burning question. "What's with the smashed pumpkins on your doorstep?"
"What do you mean?" asks my skin suit, visibly distraught upon seeing the fallen corpses of their pumpkins. The trick-or-treaters back away at this, as my skin suit's unique visage is even more uncomfortable to look at when distressed.
At the next house, they find out they physically cannot approach the door. It appears trick-or-treating is subject to the same constraints as the other Harvest Carnival festivities. They reconvene down the street and chatter amongst themselves.
"What do you think happened to the pumpkins if it's not a purposeful choice by the residents?"
"You don't think... someone else has been smashing them, do you?"
"Isn't that illegal?"
(Vandalism is not, in fact, illegal according to the Furvilla rules.)
Scared at the thought that some hooligan may be running around destroying pumpkins, the trick-or-treaters return to the fairgrounds. There is another 40 minutes until the hour ends.
Elsewhere, a dangerous flock of chickens is running amok, smashing pumpkins.
edit: also this is for making a monster because someone must be particularly monstrous if they choose the path of evil (the path of evil here being the destruction of property)
It is also
Someone takes a sip of punch and spits out the tip of Chester's tail. This is quite normal, as disembodied body parts are just part of the Dragonsmaw Manor aesthetic. The mayor cannot be expected to keep track of all his limbs at all times. He is a busy cat, after all.
There is not much to do at the fairgrounds after spinning the wheel, bobbing for "apples", and feeding Kieran's sweet tooth. Some villagers have ventured off into the woods or caves. Most of them return. Nobody dares to try a sip of the soup the Crimson Witch is brewing in her cauldron. A good broth is not made by inviting literally everyone to contribute some ingredients. There is a recipe card floating on the surface. It is probably a good source of fiber.
Mostly, villagers just sit around waiting for the hour to end so they will have something to do again.
Someone is struck by a flash of genius. "Hey, let's go trick-or-treating!"
"Sure," her friend says, not wanting to disagree. Also, her friend is bored.
Soon enough, there is a gaggle of villagers preparing to run around knocking on strangers' doors. None of them are quite sure how trick-or-treating differs from begging, but they are all pretty sure what they are about to do is quite law-abiding, so they jauntily head off to the first house.
The house looks exactly like all Dragonsmaw Manor Houses: two-storied and red-roofed. There are probably thousands of construction workers employed here but they all build identically. This standardization is one of the things that keeps Mayor Chester so busy.
The trick-or-treaters notice something odd when approaching, though. All the jack-o-lanterns the residents have lovingly carved (presumably for the contest) have been lovingly smashed. Perhaps this is an artistic choice, the trick-or-treaters think. The trick-or-treating goes successfully even though nobody answers the door—all of them just find an extra Bloop Candy Pail in their inventories.
The next house is much the same, down to the smashed pumpkins and all. Perhaps the residents do not know how pumpkin puree is made, the trick-or-treaters think. Once again, nobody answers the door, just a Bloop Candy Pail for everyone.
The third house, like a third pea in a pod, is characteristically Dragonsmaw. Its pumpkins are uncharacteristically smashed. Perhaps smashed pumpkins make better lanterns than the traditional carvings, the trick-or-treaters think. This time, an elderly canid who introduces themself as my skin suit answers the door to hand everyone a toothbrush.
Nobody wants to ask whose skin suit 'my' refers to. Some questions are better left unasked and unanswered. One intrepid trick-or-treater takes the opportunity to ask the other burning question. "What's with the smashed pumpkins on your doorstep?"
"What do you mean?" asks my skin suit, visibly distraught upon seeing the fallen corpses of their pumpkins. The trick-or-treaters back away at this, as my skin suit's unique visage is even more uncomfortable to look at when distressed.
At the next house, they find out they physically cannot approach the door. It appears trick-or-treating is subject to the same constraints as the other Harvest Carnival festivities. They reconvene down the street and chatter amongst themselves.
"What do you think happened to the pumpkins if it's not a purposeful choice by the residents?"
"You don't think... someone else has been smashing them, do you?"
"Isn't that illegal?"
(Vandalism is not, in fact, illegal according to the Furvilla rules.)
Scared at the thought that some hooligan may be running around destroying pumpkins, the trick-or-treaters return to the fairgrounds. There is another 40 minutes until the hour ends.
Elsewhere, a dangerous flock of chickens is running amok, smashing pumpkins.
edit: also this is for making a monster because someone must be particularly monstrous if they choose the path of evil (the path of evil here being the destruction of property)
