Happy Halloween you guys! I'll make another A/N at the bottom of this chappie so you can get to the reading, but I'd just like to go ahead and say that the title was inspired by the youtube edit for WTNV to the song of This Is Halloween, sung by Panic!At The Disco. It's totally amazing and totally catchy and totally describes WTNV, so check it out.

Also, you know, not my characters/series. Only this small plot. Sadly.

Have a spoopy Halloween everyone!

~palmtreedragons

Out of all of the weird things in Night Vale, the weirdest, Carlos recently found out, was Halloween.

It was weird because in Night Vale it didn't exist.

Carlos knew something was off the moment the temperature dropped. At this point, for some odd reason, the chill in the air spurred Halloween into action. When no one got out flimsy cut-out bats and pumpkins and cheap door decals, Carlos knew something was up.

As Halloween approached, and no sign of an upcoming holiday came to pass, Carlos decided to speak to Cecil about it.

Two days before Halloween, Cecil was in Carlos' lab, sitting in a chair and observing the scientist doing his science. "Cecil," Carlos started, looking up from his data tables, "I find it strange that no one has decorated for Halloween yet."

Cecil blinked vacantly. After a brief pause, he laughed nearly to the point of tears. "Oh, Carlos," he breathed as he wiped a small tear from the corner of his eye. "Sweet, beautiful, naïve Carlos. . . ."

Carlos, long ago accustomed to weird, merely made a face. "What is it now, Cecil?"

"You're so adorable, with your science and your fake holidays."

"Fake holidays? Cecil, there's nothing fake about Halloween. Millions of people celebrate it every year."

"Carlos, don't be ridiculous! Next you're going to tell me that millions of people celebrate a day where a small hopping mammal leaves eggs around for small children to find."

"People celebrate that, too, Cecil. It's called Easter."

Cecil rolled his eyes and slid off his chair, seemingly ignoring Carlos' comment about yet another fake holiday. "So, tell me, Carlos, what is this Halloween?"

"Well," Carlos started, but stopped suddenly. How can he explain Halloween? Anything he thought of sounded too weird or too illegal. Oh, screw it. Everything in Night Vale is either weird or illegal.

"Well," he started again, "on the last day of October, people celebrate Halloween. It's a holiday started long ago, originally to celebrate harvest season. Today, though, people—specifically children—dress in disguises and go around the neighborhood. Some people carve faces or images into pumpkins—" Carlos stopped suddenly, "which . . . Night Vale seems to have a strange shortage of. . . ."

Cecil only rolled his eyes. "Carlos, that seems like any other normal day here in Night Vale. Aren't we all in disguises, formed to fit the eyes of society, to mask our true inner selves? Aren't we, every day, disguised?

"Besides, we have our annual Carve an Avocado Day. I'm assuming a pumpkin is like an avocado."

Carlos didn't know how to form his current emotion into words. "It's not that literal, Cecil. I mean actual costumes. Like, ones that you dress up in. And no, a pumpkin is not similar to an avocado."

Cecil didn't seem impressed. "I just don't see what all the hoopla you're making about this Halloween is for. It doesn't sound that great to me."

Carlos shrugged. "I guess it's a childhood thing. I remember loving Halloween. I would dress up as some superhero and go around the neighborhood with friends, and we would go up to the doors and get candy—"

"Candy?" Cecil asked, his tone suddenly filled to the brim with curiosity.

"Yes, Cecil, candy. As I was saying, we would— Cecil? Cecil, where are you going?"

"I'm calling an emergency town meeting! We only have thirty-two hours until Halloween!"

Night Vale citizens gathered, Cecil forced Carlos to relay all his information to the public. Carlos wasn't really an expert on the holiday, but luckily for him, no one seemed interested in the history.

People scattered to prepare for the new holiday after the meeting had been dismissed (but not before the semi-monthly Scuba-Safety speech given by the mayor, which, Carlos thought, didn't make sense, because they lived in the middle of the desert, and there was no body of water for at least two-hundred kilometers).

"Carlos!" Cecil called amidst the crowd, roughly showing people aside as he made his way to the scientist. "Carlos! I had an amazing idea!" Carlos let out a long sigh. Cecil had a long list of amazing ideas that went horribly wrong. Not all, only most. Cecil finally found himself at Carlos' side. "I have an amazing idea."

"Yes, Cecil. I heard you. What's your great idea?"

"Amazing idea," Cecil corrected. Carlos grumbled.

"So," Cecil started grandly, "I was inspired by your talk about those costume party things. So, I suggest that we have a competition ourselves. Whoever has the scariest costume wins!"

Normally, Carlos wouldn't agree to such contests; he wasn't that big on non-science things. But he had a whole lifetime of Halloween experience against Cecil. And, to be honest . . . he sort of missed trick-or-treating.

"Deal."

Just as dusk settled on Halloween eve, Night Vale was alive with excitement. Sure, some things weren't entirely accurate—the costumes were of creatures Carlos didn't recognize, though the citizens insisted they were real, every single person carried a large burlap sack big enough to fit a person in them with suspicious stains on them rather than carrying the cute plastic jack-o-lantern buckets, the jack-o-lanterns were made out of watermelons, because no one knew what a pumpkin was (Carlos would investigate that later)—but it was somewhat . . . familiar. Carlos was proud to call himself a citizen of Night Vale. He felt like he was needed here. People respected him, they came to him with their questions. He thought of Night Vale like a home. To him, this weird, unfamiliar twist on a too common holiday was exciting, homely even. Night Vale was his home. And this is Halloween.

The night only got better when he found the back of Cecil. He was wearing an orange sweater. Carlos couldn't help but grin as he saw Cecil turn around; written across the front of his shirt in sharpie was TOTALLY A PUMPKIN.

"Cecil!" Carlos called out, and the too-orange man looked towards the familiar voice.

His scream was blood-curdling.

Carlos would've felt bad if he wasn't laughing so hard—because Cecil was currently running down the street and neck-breaking speed. If Cecil hadn't guessed by the appearance, he would have seen the nametag Carlos had on his chest: Steve Carlsburg.

Cecil wouldn't talk to him for a week, but Carlos thought it was totally worth it.

Holy cow you guys! I mean, seriously, WOW!

A week and a half and I already have 389 views from 38 different countries/areas (As of right now)! I love you all!

It's really awesome being able to share my ideas with other equally creative people! I have so many great ideas (and an awesome editor - you know who you are :D ) and I plan to update as frequently as I can. And to write more multi-chap fics. My inbox is always open to suggestions and critique/review, no matter how positive/negative.

I know my A/Ns are huge and I can sit here all day and list why you all are awesome, but if you take the time to read this, I give you a very, very personal thank you.

And a scared Cecil. You're welcome.

Once again, have a spoopy Halloween everyone!