SS Halloween Special Ch 4

Elsa stares into space, and Ying patiently rubs her back. Just as some of the tension starts to leave her body, a sudden banging on the door makes them both jump.

“Elsa! Open up!”

Ying smiles. “Just like in Frozen.”

“Oh my god. There is more to our culture than Frozen.”

Ying’s smile is angelic. “No. There isn’t.”

Elsa sighs, then drags herself upright and shuffles miserably across the small room to answer the door.

Apple wears a frilly black dress and a pointed hat, with gloves and boots. Rather than a sexy witch costume from a package, this appears to be a tolerably high-effort actual witch costume. Elsa assumes that real witches circa 1700 or whatever had NARS, although crucially, Apple is possibly the least competent makeup artist in Florida. Ying joins Elsa at the door.

“It’s time,” Apple says, bouncing on her toes. She’s from Ireland, and she seems to have money. Elsa doesn’t exactly dislike her, but this little redhead’s privilege makes her so deeply out of touch with reality that she can’t help but be obnoxious. She does not belong in CCL, and she is not popular. Elsa has agreed to help her tonight out of pity. Oddly, it grants Elsa no comfort that there is someone here more pitiful than herself.

Apple radiates happiness. “Neat costume. This is that anime, right? Neon genitals or something. My cousin watches it.” She shakes her wand at Elsa. “Looks good. Bold.”

“Sure,” Elsa says with a sigh, stepping into the hallway. She closes the door and Apple beams at Ying.

“Can you help too?”

“With what?” Ying asks kindly.

“Summoning a demon. People keep flaking out,” Apple grumbles.

“What kind of demon?”

“Dunno!” Apple’s eyes sparkle behind her thick glasses. “I’ll take what I can get!”

Ying smooths the lapels of her red coat. “Do you recognize this?”

“Pretty Woman. Nice one,” Apple says with an approving nod.

Ying gives Elsa an obnoxious look and shrugs. “You have my sword.”

“Yaas!” Apple hugs her, then trots off down the hallway.

“You’re just trying to avoid the party,” Elsa murmurs to Ying as they follow. “What? You don’t like hanging around a bunch of dumb, drunk white broads? Why’d you fucking come here, then?”

“Actually, I’m curious. What’s she talking about?” Ying whispers back.

“I think she does some weird Wiccan stuff in the basement. I don’t know. I took an edible, but it’s taking fucking forever to kick in. I’ll be OK when it does.”

“Wiccan,” Ying repeats.

“I honestly don’t know how to try to explain it to a Chinese person. Extremely stupid people doing extremely stupid shit.”

“Is there a note of bias or judgment in that assessment? Maybe a little irony as well?”

“Is there a note of you being a condescending cunt?”

“Hmm. Can’t rule it out,” Ying says regally. “You really have a crush on Riley Jameson’s sister? Or is she just the catalyst for your mental illness?”

“Why not both?” Elsa whispers. Apple is banging on Colby’s door. Elsa and Ying hang back.

“What is it called again?” Ying asks, gazing at Apple’s back.

“She’s not actually Wiccan. I just don’t remember what she said she was. I don’t really care. Long as she isn’t Mormon. I can work with anyone else.”

“What is a Mormon?”

“Dumb motherfuckers that do dumb shit,” Elsa replies without hesitation.

“You’re just giving the same answer all the time.”

“No, I’m serious.”

“No, look,” Apple is saying. She pulls a wad of printer paper out of the plastic cauldron intended for Halloween candy that she carries on her arm. She waves the papers excitedly and shouts through the door. “I couldn’t find the ritual anywhere because the grimoires are lost to time and everything, but then I asked ChatGPT, and here it is!”