Halloween Special 2026

Gurlberg, Florida

199X

The huge blue-and-yellow sign casts its glow over a sparse parking lot at Gurlberg’s magnificent Blockbuster Video. It’s Halloween. People have parties to be at. Trick-or-treating to do. Candy to hand out. Well, most people do.

The store is probably all out of Halloween tapes, Friday the 13th tapes, Nightmare on Elm Street. Scream too, but the horror aisle will have other classics to offer.

Carla Lucero, Stef Gibson, and Ellen Green don’t care about tapes right now. The sun is down, and the muggy air isn’t too cloying. The scents of motor oil and spilled Pepsi mingle with charcoal notes from a nearby Halloween cookout. They stand at the glass, gazing into the brightly lit shop, where a few customers browse the aisles. Those aren’t the problem.

Stef shakes her head in disgust. “I thought she was leaving town.”

Billie Jacques looks disgustingly, offensively comfortable in her own skin, leaning against the counter like a cowboy in her ripped jeans and Pearl Jam shirt. She has done nothing with her hair and wears no makeup. She looks like one of the guys who plays D&D at the high school.

Behind the counter stand Jessica Tiffin and Mary Jameson, gorgeous, jaw-dropping angels beside the bedraggled street rat that is Billie. Mary wears a blue crewneck sweatshirt with BLOCKBUSTER in big letters on the chest, which is pulled snug against her mountainous bounty. Jess has her Blockbuster polo on over a long-sleeved shirt, hair, makeup, earrings so perfect that she could be in People magazine.

“How is she so confident?” Ellen asks wistfully. Like Stef, she would give her right arm to be in there, talking to the goddesses.

“Because she’s a badass,” Carla says.

Stef just looks sour.

Ellen’s frown turns quizzical. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” Carla replies. “We getting this tape or not?”

“No way they have any left,” Stef grumbles. “But we’ll get something.” Muttering under her breath, she heads for the door. Carla watches her go sadly. Stef’s not hard to read. She’s pissed that Billy’s in there, doing what Stef thinks she should be the one doing. Now Stef has even more to prove than usual.

“Oh boy,” Ellen says quietly. Carla sighs and follows them in.

The Blockbuster is frigid; that’s why Mary always wears the sweatshirt. There’s a plastic smell beneath the microwave popcorn and an ozone odor that goes with low-pile carpet and vacuum cleaners. The door chimes, and everyone at the counter looks up as they walk in. No reaction from Billie, but Jess and Mary are all bubbles and smiles, as usual.

“Hey,” Jess says musically.

“Hi,” Stef grumbles, avoiding eye contact. She walks up and leans on the other side, not exactly mimicking what Billie’s doing, but trying and failing to match her attitude.

Carla braces herself. She has a feeling it’s going to be a long night.