Author's Note

Haven't we been here before? Ohhh, right.
Starting this one-shot filled anthology off with a two-parter... *clicks tongue* Noice.

as per the norm with shit from me, i'll fix it whenever i deem myself able.

probably never.

Monday the Twelfth (Or Nightmare Night) (1/2)

"Anoooooon!"

Oh my God.

"Anoooooooon, please! It's impooooortant!"

Oh. My. God.

"It's not proper to leave a lady alone outsiiide! I promise you won't regret it! Pleeeease!"

Mother? Obviously, you're smart enough to know it's not your mom standing outside your three and a half foot tall doorway, but still. The resemblance is astonishing. It's also not Butters, she definitely doesn't whine... unless that's today guess: annoyance. Chances are unlikely, but still... Must be the white horse then. You stand up from your relatively small couch, crack your spine in several places—might be a little unhealthy down the road, and make your way to the door. When you pull it open, it's no surprise when you come face to... er, groin to muzzle with Marshmellow, clad in nought but a white detective-reminiscent overcoat. "Yo." You should probably remember her name.

"Oh, thank goodne—oh my stars! What is that foul odor?!" Her face contorts oddly as she reels her head back in disgust. Ah, time to take a shower that means. You leave the door open for her and make your way to the kitchen, your shower could wait. Can't leave a stranger in your living room, right?

"Whatdya want? If it's about that whole adopting Scooterdoodle thing, you can go fu-"

"Anon, language! And please do take care of whatever it was that," she shivers as she continues, "smell was." She moves into your living room with a flick of her tail. Huh, must be pretty bad this time. "As for what I want, darling, it's simple. You're a hugh-man, you're frightening. Mayhaps you could help me with a troublesome situation? You see-"

"First off, racist." You interrupt, snapping your fingers at her all snazzily—why is the only show you think of here Keeping Up with the Karda—er, not something you should admit, not even to yourself. Just... just continue the conversation with what's-her-name. "Secondly, can I say no?" Her hoof flies up to her chest ~~or is it a barrel?~~ with shock.

"Of course, dear! Don't you ever, ever think I would force you in a situation such as this-"

"So, no?" You raise a brow.

"No." She huffs.

"But it's really important! And you're the only pony, er... hugh man that can help me!" Why is it she's the only one of these horses that can't say human correctly? Is it seriously that hard? Human, see? Even you thought it correctly. Oh, oh crap. She's saying something. "-it's just so unfair! Rainbow Dash doesn't even try with her costumes, yet she's the scary one. Puh-lease, all she does is sit on her cloud during the night and lets it go off whenever she so pleases. And I'm the one who doesn't do Nightmare Night correctly? Well, I never—my own Sister doesn't think I'm scary! I am, I am scary! In fact, so much so, I'll prove it to them. In short; Anon, darling, a little help?"

From all of that, only a single question arises in your mind. Something that burns so deeply, you have to know the answer. "What day is it?" And the look on her face was so worth it.

Her jaw drops at your question, and she shakes her head several times in disbelief. "I-uh-wha." She raises her hoof again, catching herself looking like a fool and coughs gently into it. "Of all that, Anon, and you choose to ask me the date? Blatantly ignore all of my other woes, because what catches your wonder is the date? Why, I almost feel the need to smack you." With her eyes closed tight, her hoof now at one of her temples to ease her mind, you believe she was actually going to, but her eyes open and she holds a bright smile. "But! A lady never demeans herself in such ways, so I will simply oblige and answer your question. Today is-"

"I really don't care, oh my God. You, especially you, of all horses talk too much." You groan, bringing a hand up to rub your face in annoyance. At this point, you'd much rather have Butters try and guess something stupid, like Yellow. Screw that colour. "Point is, the Hell do you need my help for? Don't you all have like a hive mind or something? Just ask one of your friends, like that pink one, for help." Besides, you can't really be bothered to helping someone during Halloween. You'd much rather eat candy, get fat, and—why does that sound familiar? It doesn't seem like—oh yeah, Eighth grade. You shiver at the horrible memories of your crush pantsing you. Shaking your head, you look over the counter to her sitting idly on your couch, looking at you with those big blue eyes of hers. "Don't do that."

"Do what, dear?" Oh, she's playing stupid. Her eyes seemingly glisten as she looks at you. "All I'm asking is for you to make me scary, shouldn't be too hard for you. After all, you are a big, strong, handso-"

She can eff right off. "No. I told you "no" not even ten minutes ago! What makes you think I'm gonna change... my... mind. Huh." The little choo-choo train in your head slows down on its tracks as you look at a photo in her magical grasp.

"Wouldn't it just be generous of me, if I let this scandalous picture just... disappear?" Oh, that conniving... "It would be such a shame if this somehow made public, wouldn't it?"

You throw your hands in the air, defeat made obvious. "Fine! Jesus! I'll, ugh, I'll make you 'scary'. But if you come running to me 'cause you traumatized your sister or anyone else, that's on you." Your eyes follow the picture as it slowly drops into her pocket. The white horse claps her hooves together in blunt joy. It was kinda cute, kinda, but she has a very incriminating photo so that sorta nullifies the cuteness.

"Oh darling, it is absolutely wonderful you've decided to come around and help me. I'll be the most horrifying pony yet!" Her oddly cute laughter destroys the possible image of 'horrifying.' Despite having that Godawful photo.

Problem is though, I don't exactly know scary, so this might be an issue... so I might not even get it back-

But then, you remember a certain costume that took two people to pull off. Plop it in Horse world, and it might just do the trick. Pair that with the ~~only~~ best seamstress you've ever seen, it might also give these kids nightmares for life.

Great.

You are so getting arrested for this.

-----

"We are not dressing up as—as that! No!"

"Hey, watch it! You wanted scary, this was the best I could draw up!"

"Spike nearly had a heart attack when he came in half an hour ago, the poor dear, we are not using your—ugh, the answer is no!"

"Like it or not, White Horse, this is the best bet for you being scary. Now make the damn thing already, I don't want to be hugging your ass for too long." The piece of paper you presented her is the epitome of horror ~~in Horse World.~~ Drawn on the somewhat large sheet is a horse. A large horse that can come apart, thus the "two people" part of the costume. "If we split any time during the whole Trick or Treating process, we'll scare the Hell outta those kids. Maybe even some adults. You wanted scary, I'm presenting horrifying, least for you guys. And, if you make the costume, I'm sure you can make it lifelike. Kinda like that big lizard costume you made for Firefly and them to spy on that baby lizard-"

"Spike is not a baby lizard, he's a-"

"Ah, ah," you tsk, "baby Demogorgon, I know. Jeez, it's like you guys think I'm stupid. Anyway! Just make it lifelike and we'll be the talk of the town or something like that. Point is, it should work for your whole... wanting to be scary plan... thing." You'll probably stuff it with bags full of fake blood. It'll make the whole separating factor so much more interesting. Or you'll just be rushed to the hospital with horse doctors trying to sow you back up to Marshmellow's ass. You shiver and put 'fake blood' on the 'Maybe' list in your head.

Don't want anything too real. Even though it'll look fake as Hell to you; you have to remember, these idiots thought a potato dressed as a bunny was a real thing. Three days of explaining that and you still got sentenced for a month. "I want you to know, Anon, that I wholly resent this idea, but if it's to make me more of a fright for others, just for the sake of Nightmare Night, I will do it." Both of you are going to jail.

"Just, just make the thing already. It's the Eleventh—I hate how you guys date your Holidays by the way—so that means we've got one day to work on this." You raise your right index finger, a look of confusion crosses her eyes for a moment before she realizes you meant "one" verbally and physically.

As you said, idiots.