"Do cheer up, Jonathan," said Tetch. "At least we managed to escape while Batman was rounding up the others, and we're at liberty this Halloween."
"Yes, there is that, I suppose," sighed Crane, his arms folded across his chest as they stood in line at the movie theater.
"And you did kill Dracula," continued Tetch. "That's a pretty impressive achievement, wouldn't you agree?"
"Yes, I suppose so," sighed Crane again.
"You mustn't let your favorite holiday be ruined just because Harley wasn't impressed," finished Tetch.
"Well, I am looking forward immensely to seeing this movie," admitted Crane. "There is nothing like a good, old-fashioned ghost story, and that's exactly what this is. The novel is a favorite of mine, as is the theatrical production, and I'm sure the movie will be equally terrifying. As long as…" he paused, looking around the line.
"As long as what?" asked Tetch.
Crane sighed. "Audiences have this terribly annoying habit in horror films of screaming, which I don't mind. But then rather than embrace the fear, they start laughing to break the tension, and I can't bear that. It's entirely the wrong response for being frightened, and it reminds me of that laughing hyena whom Harley prefers for some reason."
"I'm sure they won't laugh," said Tetch. "If it's as scary as you claim, Jonathan, they'll probably be too frightened to do anything but just stare in horror at the screen."
"I do hope you're right," muttered Crane. "With the mood I'm in, I'd be tempted to do something desperate."
Unfortunately for this particular audience, they did indeed laugh at the movie. Tetch felt Crane tense up next to him, and after about three laughs, he murmured, "Jervis, you should step outside briefly, please."
Tetch didn't need to be told twice. He raced out of the screen and purchased another bucket of popcorn as he heard horrible screaming from inside. When the screaming stopped at last, he re-entered the screen, where Crane sat in the middle of several corpses, fear frozen forever on their dead faces, and the lingering scent of fear gas in the air.
"Popcorn?" asked Tetch, sitting back down and holding out the bucket.
"Thank you," he said, taking some and smiling. "That's quite cheered me up, you know, Jervis. Nothing like terrifying the life out of annoying randomers."
"Indeed," agreed Tetch. "It's certainly the spirit of the season."
The End