Disclaimer:
A kiss is just a kiss,
A smile is just a smile.
These people don't belong to me,
So please don't sue me for this.
A/N: Hey, I'm bored, all right? It seemed like a good idea at the time. This could possibly be part of the Spirals universe, but if it makes your head hurt to consider that, then it isn't. This is more of a stand-alone like the other non-Spirals fics I have. Oh yeah, and I have no clue how to spell Jason's last name.
****
Inspiration: Lime green underwear / A pixie / Poison (I forgot the vampire bit last time, so it's in this chapter.)
****
"Tricking and Treating, Chapter Two"
Fulton called to Jesse, "You want soda, juice, or water?"
"What kinda juice you got?"
"Um," Fulton stuck his head in the fridge and pushed Tupperwares around, trying to see what they had. Usually, when they were relatively close to running out of something, his dad would go out and buy something like it, but not quite. As a result, they had Mott's apple juice, Capri Sun, Squeeze-its, Tropicana and Sunny Delight orange juice, a can of pineapple juice, and Hawaiian Punch. He yelled all the options back to Jesse.
"Hawaiian Punch, then!" Jesse replied. Fulton came back with a can of Hawaiian Punch and a box of apple juice. Jesse grinned, showing off his plastic vampire fangs, and teased, "Don't you ever clean out your refrigerator?"
"I happen to enjoy variety," Fulton said loftily. He tossed the can at Jesse and flopped back down on the couch.
Jesse said something in reply, but Fulton couldn't understand it, since the other boy was in the process of removing his fangs. Jesse was dressed as a vampire in all black, a long black cape with satin-like red lining, and his hair hidden beneath a black wig with a widow's peak. Fulton rolled his eyes and stabbed his straw into the little foil circle of the apple juice box.
'Oh, that's just what I want. To marry Topenga! Then we can name our children Chewbacca and Plankton,' Corey Matthews said on TV. Jesse snorted with laughter and suddenly clapped a hand to his nose.
"Dude!" Fulton cried, jumping up, "That is so disgusting!"
Red fluid leaked through Jesse's fingers as he pleaded, "Fulton, get me a napkin!" Fulton ran into the kitchen and ran back, throwing a wad of paper towels into Jesse's lap. After he had mopped himself up, Jesse commented mildly, "It's better than having cream soda come up your nose."
"Yuck." Fulton said matter-of-factly. "Go wash your hands, dude. You've got punch and snot all over 'em."
****
After a while, TV and candy got boring. Jesse restlessly suggested that they go out and play a prank on somebody. Fulton snapped,
"Hello, anybody home? I can't. Sprained ankle, remember?"
"So?" Jesse said, "Slap some Icy Hot on it, wrap it up, and grab your skates. We'll go over to my place and get you some stuff for a decent costume, then we can go...I dunno, snatch candy bags from little kids or something."
Fulton sighed. "Jesse Hall, pillar of morality." He commented sarcastically, but privately, he considered bag-snatching an integral part of the Halloween tradition--not to mention that he'd had his candy stolen as a six-year-old and still bore a grudge.
Jesse snapped his plastic fangs back into place and cajoled, "C'mon, we'll only pick on big kids, then. Whack 'em with a hockey stick and skate away."
"Has anyone ever told you that you'd make an excellent mobster?" Fulton inquired dryly.
"Has anyone ever told you that you need to live a little?" Jesse shot back. "Fulton, let's break the rules! Let's rain terror down upon the heads of the slow and defenseless! It'll be fun!"
"I'll make a mental note never to combine firecrackers and you. You'd enjoy taping Roman candles to a cat's back, I just know it." Reaching over, Fulton flicked the switch to turn off the porchlight. "All right, let's go then."
****
Fulton picked up a pair of lime green briefs and raised an eyebrow. Jesse grabbed the underwear from him and shoved it back in the dresser drawer. Fulton smiled. "How did that happen?"
"My dad did the laundry one day...threw my mom's new skirt in with the whites and now we all have at least two pairs of embarrassing green underpants." Jesse scowled at the memory, and at Fulton's persistent grin, and shoved a white plastic mask, a la Friday the Thirteenth, into the boy's hands. "Here. This, your stick, your blades, voila! Halloween costume."
"Jason Voorhees. A serial killer. How unsurprising, coming from you."
"Just shut up and put the damn mask on," Jesse snapped, rummaging through his possessions for his Rollerblades.
****
Bladed, costumed, and armed with hockey sticks, Jesse and Fulton glided through the neighborhood, sticking to the shadows. As a group of trick-or-treaters passed, Fulton elbowed Jesse excitedly. There was the pixie-girl from earlier, and her brat of a friend dressed as an angel. After a heated exchange of whispers, the boys began trailing the small winged trick-or-treaters.
They waited until the rest of the group, including the chaperone, turned a street corner before Jesse skated ahead and cut them off. The pixie squeaked with fear and clutched at her friend in a terrified hug. Jesse and Fulton started to circle the girls, first in wide circles, circles that gradually tightened, but they never said a word. The girls seemed petrified.
"Hey, Jason," Jesse said suddenly.
Behind the mask, Fulton grinned. Affecting a slightly deeper voice, he replied, "Yeah, Dracula?"
"Think we should tell these two about Mrs. Mackenzie's 'candy apples'?"
"You mean her *poison* apples?"
"Yeah, the *poison* apples that she coats in *caramel* so that little kids eat them aaaallll up..."
The angel girl scoffed. "Only 'Snow White' has poison apples."
"Shh, Angie!" The pixie squeaked. "Mrs. Mackenzie brought candy apples to your house today, 'member?"
This was what the boys were counting on. Mrs. Mackenzie was a reclusive old lady who had a bunch of apple trees in her back yard, and every Halloween, she'd go on a candy apple spree. Every family in the neighborhood got a dozen. They were, unfortunately, hard as rocks. The only good use that Fulton had found for them was as substitute hockey pucks. The story that they were 'poisoned' was an old one that had been passed down from older kids to younger for years.
"You better not eat any," Jesse cautioned, "or you'll turn into a flesh-eating zombie."
"Just like us!" Fulton yelled, and they both lunged dramatically at the girls, who screamed and ran away, dropping their plastic pumpkins in the rush.
****
"Fulton, man, I can't believe you."
"What?! What did I do?"
"You went through those little girls' pumpkins for Mr. Goodbars. That's low."
"Hey, you did *not* say no to the Milky Ways I gave you. You can't talk."
~~To Be Continued...~~
A/N: For those of you who don't know, Mr. Goodbars are milk chocolate bars with peanuts in them. My favorite candy bar, for your information, if you ever want to bribe me for something.
A kiss is just a kiss,
A smile is just a smile.
These people don't belong to me,
So please don't sue me for this.
A/N: Hey, I'm bored, all right? It seemed like a good idea at the time. This could possibly be part of the Spirals universe, but if it makes your head hurt to consider that, then it isn't. This is more of a stand-alone like the other non-Spirals fics I have. Oh yeah, and I have no clue how to spell Jason's last name.
****
Inspiration: Lime green underwear / A pixie / Poison (I forgot the vampire bit last time, so it's in this chapter.)
****
"Tricking and Treating, Chapter Two"
Fulton called to Jesse, "You want soda, juice, or water?"
"What kinda juice you got?"
"Um," Fulton stuck his head in the fridge and pushed Tupperwares around, trying to see what they had. Usually, when they were relatively close to running out of something, his dad would go out and buy something like it, but not quite. As a result, they had Mott's apple juice, Capri Sun, Squeeze-its, Tropicana and Sunny Delight orange juice, a can of pineapple juice, and Hawaiian Punch. He yelled all the options back to Jesse.
"Hawaiian Punch, then!" Jesse replied. Fulton came back with a can of Hawaiian Punch and a box of apple juice. Jesse grinned, showing off his plastic vampire fangs, and teased, "Don't you ever clean out your refrigerator?"
"I happen to enjoy variety," Fulton said loftily. He tossed the can at Jesse and flopped back down on the couch.
Jesse said something in reply, but Fulton couldn't understand it, since the other boy was in the process of removing his fangs. Jesse was dressed as a vampire in all black, a long black cape with satin-like red lining, and his hair hidden beneath a black wig with a widow's peak. Fulton rolled his eyes and stabbed his straw into the little foil circle of the apple juice box.
'Oh, that's just what I want. To marry Topenga! Then we can name our children Chewbacca and Plankton,' Corey Matthews said on TV. Jesse snorted with laughter and suddenly clapped a hand to his nose.
"Dude!" Fulton cried, jumping up, "That is so disgusting!"
Red fluid leaked through Jesse's fingers as he pleaded, "Fulton, get me a napkin!" Fulton ran into the kitchen and ran back, throwing a wad of paper towels into Jesse's lap. After he had mopped himself up, Jesse commented mildly, "It's better than having cream soda come up your nose."
"Yuck." Fulton said matter-of-factly. "Go wash your hands, dude. You've got punch and snot all over 'em."
****
After a while, TV and candy got boring. Jesse restlessly suggested that they go out and play a prank on somebody. Fulton snapped,
"Hello, anybody home? I can't. Sprained ankle, remember?"
"So?" Jesse said, "Slap some Icy Hot on it, wrap it up, and grab your skates. We'll go over to my place and get you some stuff for a decent costume, then we can go...I dunno, snatch candy bags from little kids or something."
Fulton sighed. "Jesse Hall, pillar of morality." He commented sarcastically, but privately, he considered bag-snatching an integral part of the Halloween tradition--not to mention that he'd had his candy stolen as a six-year-old and still bore a grudge.
Jesse snapped his plastic fangs back into place and cajoled, "C'mon, we'll only pick on big kids, then. Whack 'em with a hockey stick and skate away."
"Has anyone ever told you that you'd make an excellent mobster?" Fulton inquired dryly.
"Has anyone ever told you that you need to live a little?" Jesse shot back. "Fulton, let's break the rules! Let's rain terror down upon the heads of the slow and defenseless! It'll be fun!"
"I'll make a mental note never to combine firecrackers and you. You'd enjoy taping Roman candles to a cat's back, I just know it." Reaching over, Fulton flicked the switch to turn off the porchlight. "All right, let's go then."
****
Fulton picked up a pair of lime green briefs and raised an eyebrow. Jesse grabbed the underwear from him and shoved it back in the dresser drawer. Fulton smiled. "How did that happen?"
"My dad did the laundry one day...threw my mom's new skirt in with the whites and now we all have at least two pairs of embarrassing green underpants." Jesse scowled at the memory, and at Fulton's persistent grin, and shoved a white plastic mask, a la Friday the Thirteenth, into the boy's hands. "Here. This, your stick, your blades, voila! Halloween costume."
"Jason Voorhees. A serial killer. How unsurprising, coming from you."
"Just shut up and put the damn mask on," Jesse snapped, rummaging through his possessions for his Rollerblades.
****
Bladed, costumed, and armed with hockey sticks, Jesse and Fulton glided through the neighborhood, sticking to the shadows. As a group of trick-or-treaters passed, Fulton elbowed Jesse excitedly. There was the pixie-girl from earlier, and her brat of a friend dressed as an angel. After a heated exchange of whispers, the boys began trailing the small winged trick-or-treaters.
They waited until the rest of the group, including the chaperone, turned a street corner before Jesse skated ahead and cut them off. The pixie squeaked with fear and clutched at her friend in a terrified hug. Jesse and Fulton started to circle the girls, first in wide circles, circles that gradually tightened, but they never said a word. The girls seemed petrified.
"Hey, Jason," Jesse said suddenly.
Behind the mask, Fulton grinned. Affecting a slightly deeper voice, he replied, "Yeah, Dracula?"
"Think we should tell these two about Mrs. Mackenzie's 'candy apples'?"
"You mean her *poison* apples?"
"Yeah, the *poison* apples that she coats in *caramel* so that little kids eat them aaaallll up..."
The angel girl scoffed. "Only 'Snow White' has poison apples."
"Shh, Angie!" The pixie squeaked. "Mrs. Mackenzie brought candy apples to your house today, 'member?"
This was what the boys were counting on. Mrs. Mackenzie was a reclusive old lady who had a bunch of apple trees in her back yard, and every Halloween, she'd go on a candy apple spree. Every family in the neighborhood got a dozen. They were, unfortunately, hard as rocks. The only good use that Fulton had found for them was as substitute hockey pucks. The story that they were 'poisoned' was an old one that had been passed down from older kids to younger for years.
"You better not eat any," Jesse cautioned, "or you'll turn into a flesh-eating zombie."
"Just like us!" Fulton yelled, and they both lunged dramatically at the girls, who screamed and ran away, dropping their plastic pumpkins in the rush.
****
"Fulton, man, I can't believe you."
"What?! What did I do?"
"You went through those little girls' pumpkins for Mr. Goodbars. That's low."
"Hey, you did *not* say no to the Milky Ways I gave you. You can't talk."
~~To Be Continued...~~
A/N: For those of you who don't know, Mr. Goodbars are milk chocolate bars with peanuts in them. My favorite candy bar, for your information, if you ever want to bribe me for something.