SS Halloween Special Ch 8

Apple opens the basement door, and the hinges squeal loudly enough to pierce the music. Elsa cringes, and she and Ying pause at the top of the stairs. There’s a movie playing in the TV room, and the sounds from that mingle with everything else.

“What are they watching?” Elsa asks.

Halfway down the stairs, Colby looks over her shoulder. “Piranhaconda.”

“Apple’s checking you out,” Ying says quietly.

“What? I thought she was asexual or some shit.”

“She’s not asexual. She just has no social skills,” Ying replies.

“Many such cases,” Elsa says with a yawn, then takes a big drink.

“She’s gaysexual,” says a voice.

Elsa and Ying turn only to nearly be knocked down the stairs by the hind end of the double-sized unicorn costume. The wearers clomp around the kitchen island, making the bottles bump and rattle together.

“Go away, Donut,” Elsa says.

“Be careful. That costume is probably flammable,” Ying adds. “There are hot things here. Breakable things.”

Donut and her mysterious sidekick aren’t listening. Elsa shakes her head. “I’m getting a refill,” she announces as Donut and her sidekick thunder out of the kitchen, and an unfamiliar girl wearing the Sally dress from Nightmare Before Christmas staggers in drunkenly.

“Good idea,” Ying says.

“Better get one for Kylie, too.”

They throw back their drinks. Ying mixes herself a fresh one while Elsa pours vodka into her cup neat. The drunk girl messily spoons Lil’ Smokies into a bowl. She spots the open door.

“Is that the basement?” she asks.

“Yup,” Elsa replies, tossing the empty vodka bottle into the recycling bin.

“Is there really a dungeon down there?”

“Yup. But it’s locked up.”

“Aww.” The girl eats a sausage, and now has sauce on her face. She squints at Elsa. “I can see your vagina bones.”

Elsa forces a smile. “Sweetie, did you hear about the murders here a long time ago?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Go away unless you want that to be you.” There’s a cup of sporks next to the fruit salad. Elsa grabs one and points it meaningfully at the girl.

The girl’s eyes widen, then she belches. “OK. Jeez.” She totters out with her wieners.

“That wasn’t nice,” Ying says.

“That girl is not eighteen. She should not be here. She’s lucky I didn’t throw her ass out,” Elsa grumbles, taking a burning gulp of vodka. “We doing this?” she asks, following Ying back to the stairs.

Ying heads down. “I think I’d rather watch Piranhaconda,” she confesses.