A/N: By the way, if at some point it sounds like I'm insulting Smithers, don't worry: I'm not. He's my favorite character and I love him, so this is all in good fun. This was another request from somebody who wanted a fic about Smithers scaring people with his "mannerisms". X-D I decided it would make a goodHalloween-type story. Hope you like it!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Simpsons. Matt Groening and Fox call all the shots, here. :-)
(Third-Person P.O.V.)
Halloween: the scariest time of the year. When children put on their creepiest wardrobes and went scavenging for candy, letting no adults get in their way. When zombies and vampires awoke from their eternal slumbers and roamed the streets, making everybody's blood curdle. When jack-o-lanterns decorated the front steps of every door and skeleton heads every table. At least, that's how the oldest Simpson sibling depicted it.
Bart Simpson and his best friend, Milhouse van Houten, still went trick-or-treating, despite what Bart's sister Lisa thought of the idea.
"Bart, don't you think you're a bit too old for this? I mean, you're a pre-adolescent and your hormones are going crazy enough without all of that saccharose, dextrose, and red dye number 40 surging through your veins," she lectured. Bart turned to his bespectacled friend.
"Did you get any of what she said?" he inquired.
"No. All I heard was 'crazy'. I like crazy," Milhouse spoke up, double-arching his eyebrows at Lisa. The young pearl-necklaced girl wrinkled her nose.
"Ew! Milhouse, go gross out somebody else!" she cried in disgust.
"Aw! But I already did!" the blue-haired boy whined. It was true: pretty much everybody in Springfield was grossed out by his slimy green alien costume with one red eye and slime oozing out of his mouth. Bart was a werewolf since he had that weird obsession for body hair. He was the next to speak up.
"Okay, sis, suit yourself. But I am not splitting any candy with you like I didlast year."
"Fine. I could do without your stupid candy anyways. This year, I'll be helping Mom give out the rice cakes," Lisa sniffed haughtily. Bart rolled his eyes.
"Great. Might as well spray-paint a target on our house and egg it," he sighed. But Nelson already took care of it.
"Ha ha!" he cried, running away after doing the deed.
Sooner than later, Bart and Milhouse joined the other kids for trick-or-treating. The streets lit up in hues of yellow and orange with the lights of the gas lamps and jack-o-lanterns, the night was damp and more pitch-black than usual, and the noise of doorbells ringing and cracking voices of children filled all of Springfield. The two boys decided to take a shortcut to some other houses by walking through the Black Forest. At least, that's what Bart wanted to do.
"Oh, come on, Milly. Don't tell me you're afraid of the Black Forest," Bart scoffed, rolling his eyes at the visibly shivering boy.
"But Bart! It's the most haunted forest in Springfield! They say the witches that escaped from the Salem Witch Trials wait eagerly to massacre little children like us who wander innocently into the forest! Then...WOOSH!" Milhouse made an exaggerated wind motion with his arms and pretended to shriek. "They attack and the kids scream bloody murder!"
"Man, that's a load of bull! It sounds like something the mayor made up to keep the forest for himself! He could just have easily said that My Little Pony zombies were spitting up rainbow bombs! Well, we'll show him!" Bart grabbed Milhouse's wrist and dragged him through the dark, dingy forest. Milhouse jumped whenever a squirrel or the wind passed by. It caused the hair to stand up on the back of his neck, his palms to sweat, and his heart to throw itself against his chest.
It's like being in love, except much worse, he thought. The two boys kept wandering through the forest with their flashlights before Bart moved an inch away from Milhouse. "Bart, what are you doing?" he asked.
"I'm not doing anything," Bart retorted, raising a "what the hell" eyebrow.
"Yeah you are, you're moving away from me."
"Wait a minute..." Bart looked down. "Ack! Iam!"
"W-What's going on?!" Milhouse stammered, his face turning chalk-white with fear. Just then, Bart fell on his side. His voice sounded strained, as if an invisible boa constrictor had coiled itself around him.
"Laws of gravity have changed...human magnet is drawing me closer to that bush! AAAAAAAA!" Bart screamed and rolled into a bush, disappearing from sight.
"Bart! BART! Oh no, the witches took him!" Milhouse ran over to the bush where Bart currently was. "Bart! Where are you?! Bart, if you're there, make a noise! Make a noise, Bart! Why aren't you making a noise?!" he panicked. Suddenly, he heard a hissing noise coming from the bush. "V-Very funny, Bart! I k-know you're in there!" Then, he heard,
"YOU BETTER GET OUT, LITTLE BOY! THE SALEM WITCHES ARE OUT TO GET YOU! YEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE!"
"AUGHHHHHHHH!" Milhouse lost his squash and tore down the path towards town. The voice behind him taunted,
"We're after you, we're after you, we're after you, fresh meat~!" The blue-haired boy tripped over a stray stick and began to cry.
"No! Please! Don't kill me! Have mercy! I don't wanna be eaten, I'm too young to die!" Just then, the mysterious voice began laughing. It wasn't a witch, though: it was Bart.
"Oh my God, that was priceless! You should've seen the look on your face, dude!" Milhouse was quick to become angry.
"You idiot! You made me pee my pants! Now my Mom's gonna get mad at me since this costume is dry-clean only!" The two boys sissy-fought before settling for not speaking to each other. However, thanks to Bart's practical joke, Black Forest seemed to look more ominous by the minute. There was a low fog ranging from their waistlines to the ground, cobwebs decorated dead trees like veils, tree roots stuck out as if they were trying to grab travelers's feet, wolves howled creepy ballads at the moon, and yellow-eyed vultures glared as if they were deciding which part they should tear off with their sharp piercing beaks first.
"I swear, if I see one more scary thing tonight, this Halloween just might traumatize me forever," Milhouse said, shuddering in the cold dampness of the night. Bart rolled his eyes.
"Dude, it's Halloween. It'ssupposed to be scary," he commented, unimpressed by his friend's cowardice. Just as quickly, lightning struck in the air, revealing a nearby one-story house in the half-second light. It was surrounded by smoky fog and an owl hooted threateningly. The two boys gasped: Milhouse out of horror, and Bart out of fascination. "Cool. A haunted house," the spiky-haired boy breathed bewilderedly.
"Bart, can we go back now? I don't wanna die, there's too many places I haven't been, foods I haven't tried, girls I haven't kissed!"
"Oh, like any girl would want to kiss you anyways," Bart scoffed, waving a hand at him dismissively. Milhouse was about to retort when lightning flashed again, causing him to cower instead. "Now come on, you weenie, let's check this place out." And so, they walked up to the door and knocked. No answer. They knocked again; still no answer. "Aw, this is boring," Bart complained, before deciding to kick the door down.
BAM! With the force of ten Barts, the door fell from its hinges like something out of a crazy cop show. They stepped inside and observed their surroudings. The entire indoors was jet-black as far as the naked eye could see, like an everlasting abyss of doom. Any evidence of light in the house had been destroyed.
Suddenly, out of the blue, the door appeared on its hinges again and slammed shut behind the boys, causing them to jump. Bart thought that as long as they were there, they might as well check the place out. They attempted to turn on their flashlights, but they sizzled and burned out. By now, both of their hearts were racing, whether Bart liked to admit it or not. They walked through the dead hallway, their eyes adjusting slowly to the dark so their "night vision" could develop. They noticed that there was a plethora of Malibu Stacy dolls on wooden shelves, smiling creepily down upon them.
"Um, Milhouse? I feel like this house is lacking in girls for all the wrong reasons," Bart commented, his eyes growing wide.
"You mean..." Milhouse began.
"Yeah," Bart answered. They gulped at the thought. The idea of running into this "thing" they so feared was enough to make their hearts do gymnastics. But that was not all the house had to offer, oh no. There were random pictures of Mr. Burns surrounded by red Sharpie hearts strewn about the floor, ugly house plants, and, worst of all... a. tidy. LIVING ROOM.
"What kind of a sick human being could live in an environment with a living room that looks like something out of a magazine?!" Bart inquired, a look of horror etched across his face.
"Clean living rooms make me feel itchy," Milhouse whispered, scratching his arms flurriedly. It was at that precise moment that the two boys heard a CRASH sound. They gasped and jumped. It came from the kitchen. They shout-whispered back and forth.
"What was that noise?!"
"Maybe it's a monster!"
"Maybe it's an alien!"
"We should check it out!" They snuck towards the kitchen and peeped through the keyhole. Nothing was there. Perhaps it was a trick: the creature could be anywhere. They opened the door with an eerie creak and stepped into the room. The really creepy part was that nothing was out of place. No pots or pans were scattered throughout the room, no half-eaten doughnuts or half-read newspapers covered the countertops, and no spelling bee awards or paperwork covered the refrigerator. This was all too weird.
"It's neat...too neat. Whatever this creature is doing, he sure is good," Bart commented.
"Th-That's great, Bart! Can we go home now?!" Milhouse whispered frightenedly.
"Sh!" the blonde commanded, holding up his index finger. He strode slowly around the kitchen, like an adult playing hide-and-seek with a child whose hiding place he already knew. "That's funny. I could've sworn I heard a monster in here. ...Yoo-hoo! Mr. Monster Man! Come out, come out, wherever you a-"
"HELLO, BOYS! CARE TO JOIN THE PARTY?! I JUST LOVE EXTRA COMPANY!" a voice cried out of nowhere. When the boys noticed who it was coming from, their eyes bulged out of their sockets and they ran home with fright, undoubtedly to hide under their covers and cry like babies.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" They shrieked bloody-murder, never to return to that house again. As soon as they were gone, the light in the kitchen turned back on and the "creature" was revealed to be nothing more than Mr. Waylon Smithers... in a maid outfit.
"That's funny; I thought they wanted candy," he said, shrugging and smiling. The person who helped to create such an eerie environment, Principal Skinner, laughed and walked into the kitchen.
"Ha ha ha! Good one, Waylon! That'll give me something to tease them about tomorrow! Heh, I can't believe they actually thought you were – were-" He couldn't finish his previous sentence, because Waylon was up in his face, grinning creepily, and tracing a finger idly on his chest.
"Feel free to come knocking on my door sometime, Skinny. I'm sure your girlfriend, Edna, wouldn't mind," he cooed, like a pedophile stroking the chin of a small child. Skinners's face went pale, his mouth flopped like a goldfish, and his eyes inflated like a bouncy-house.
"Oh my God. You're – you're – AUGHHHHHHH!" the principal ran out of the house, flailing his arms like a malfunctioning windmill. "MOMMMMYYYYY!" Smithers shrugged.
"What'shis problem?" Bart and Milhouse never again took the shortcut through Black Forest and Skinners had nightmares for months on end. All three victims vowed to never cross paths with the 'scariest man in Springfield'...again.
THE...END?