A very long time ago, even longer than your grandparents could ever guess, a young and boney ghoul named Jack Skellington was recovering from the grand Halloween festivities of the previous night.
He had only just recently started his career as the master of All Hallows' Eve, had only been doing it for fifty or so years. And, each year, he was finding ways to top his previous efforts, making things bigger and better and scarier. Every year he fine-tuned the terror and made the shocks and spookings explode with even more grotesque merriment. Under his reign, Halloweentown was scarier than it had ever been, and everyone who lived there was delighted.
Last night had, of course, been the most horrifyingly hair-raising Halloween yet, and Jack was very proud. But tonight, as all the other monsters were catching up on their rest in their dark and dank abodes, he was resting his bones in the graveyard. Leaning on a weird, curvy tombstone, Jack sighed. He was (if you'll pardon the expression) bone-tired. Halloween had really taken it out of him this year. It wasn't that he was weary with the holiday itself (that would come much later, in a tale that has already been told), but the details had bogged him down considerably, and not just because he'd had to wade through several bogs to find just the right breed of fang-toad.
He loved coming up with new stunts and new roles for every creature of Halloweentown, but dealing with the minutiae was taxing. He'd been overjoyed when he first envisioned the digging of tunnels leading to various points in the human world, so that several creatures of Halloween could pop up out of the ground and frighten unwary travelers from below. But setting up the execution had been exhausting. Researching, mapping, rounding up recruits, digging, carefully timing everything just right… it was enough to give him a headache, which really shouldn't have been possible considering he didn't technically have a brain.
Most of the work had been like that. Pouring barrels-full of glowing ectoplasmic slime into the sewers of five hundred neighborhoods had looked magnificent, but the drainage and the clean-up had been a nightmare (and not the good kind). Bats had flown into wonderful formations, making silhouettes of pumpkins and skulls and spiders in the light of the moon, but they were so very easily distracted, and had taken several months and dozens of handlers to train properly.
It wasn't that Jack didn't have any help, of course. On the contrary, every citizen of Halloweentown was always eager to chip in to assist any of Jack's ideas. But even that was another layer of stress. Not only did Jack have to think for himself, he also had to think for several other creatures at the same time. The monsters of Halloweentown… Jack loved them all, quite dearly. But most of them were, frankly, not the brightest candles in the Jack-o-lanterns. And even when they didn't need his help, it was still Jack's job as the Pumpkin King to oversee them all.
He sighed again. Right now, at least, he could get in some rest before preparations for next Halloween began. As a skeleton, he didn't really need to sleep if he didn't want to, but right now a little dormancy seemed like just what the mad scientist ordered.
Lying on the pleasantly cold hard ground, his head propped against the tombstone, Jack closed his empty eye sockets and listened to the peace of the night, hearing only the rustling of the wind and the occasional caw of a crow or soft squeaking of a bat.
Until he became aware of a sound coming through the breeze. He sat up and listened more closely. It was the soft, but consistent, sound of quiet sobbing.
Jack stood up and looked around. He couldn't see anything, but he could hear the sound a little better now. It seemed to be coming from behind a small hill a few feet away.
Jack walked past the tombstones and circled around the hill. Yes, the crying and sniffling sounds were definitely coming from the other side.
Jack may have been the master of all things startling and frightening, but in this case he thought it best to be un-alarming. "Hello?" he said, his voice carrying in the wind. "Is somebody there?"
The crying and sniffling paused for a second, before continuing even more quietly. The weeper probably didn't want to be found and approached. But Jack, despite his frightening appearance, nevertheless had a very big heart (he kept it in a jar on a shelf back home).
"There's no need to hide," Jack continued, slowly making his way around to the other side of the hill. "I'm Jack. Are you a creature of Halloween?"
A pause. And then, a small voice. "No."
"No?" asked Jack inquiringly. He reached the other side of the hill, and there, curled up beneath a looming tombstone, was a small creature that didn't look familiar. It was a pudgy little triangle of a thing, rather like a giant candy corn with little arms and legs.
The little thing hesitated. "Well… yes," it amended, "but I'm not a good one. I don't do anything with all the others." The face on its triangular head was pale, even by Halloweentown standards, with a mouth full of sharp little teeth, extremely down-turned in woe. It was dressed in rags.
Jack to a step nearer, and knelt down to get closer to the little thing's level. "I don't ever think I've seen you around before," he said, "are you a new monster?"
The thing nodded. "I've only been here for two Halloweens."
"Do you have a name?" asked Jack.
The creature thought. "No," he said, "I don't think so."
Jack pondered this. "Well, if you've already been here the past couple Halloweens, why haven't you taken part in any of the fun?"
"Can't you see?" cried the little thing. "I'm not scary! Not at all! I'm small and fat and I cry at almost everything! No one would be afraid of me!"
"Hmm," said Jack. To be honest, the little creature had a point. Jack prided himself on finding a terrifying role for every creature under his guidance, but he had to admit that he had trouble envisioning anything for this chubby little monster. The little fellow was more cute than anything else.
The creature put his face in his hands. "What's the good of a Halloween monster who isn't scary at all?"
"Well," said Jack, his tone soft and kind, "there's other things to do at Halloween besides scaring." The little thing took his hands away from his face and looked back up at him, his eyes still teary but questioning.
Jack gestured back towards the town gates. "Take that young Doctor Finkelstein, for instance. He doesn't get out of his laboratory much, even on Halloween. But he's still vitally important every year. Has been ever since he's joined us. He's always designing new tools, new tricks. Always coming up with fun new creatures to play with, and reanimating all sorts of wonderful zombies! Every year his contributions are invaluable. I couldn't enact half of my crazy ideas without him!"
The little fellow was listening to Jack's revelation with rapt attention. Jack finished by saying "So you see, even though Doctor Finkelstein doesn't go out and scare anyone on Halloween, he's still vital to the holiday as we all know it."
"Wow," said the little thing in a small voice of awe-struck innocence. "I didn't know that."
Jack nodded. "It's true. So, even if you aren't made to be particularly frightening, I'd wager we can still find a way you can be a part of Halloween."
"R-really?" stammered the little fellow, vulnerable hope in his voice.
Jack grinned his signature toothy smile. "Absolutely."
"Oh, thank you!" cried the little fellow. And then, as Jack watched, the little creature's triangular head began to rotate. With a rusty-sounding wrenching noise that made Jack wince a little, the head flipped a complete 180 degrees. The side that now faced Jack sported a face with more color in it, one with crazy eyes and a big, happy, Cheshire-cat smile."
"Say," said Jack, "that's a nifty little trick you have there."
The little creature's cheeks blushed. "Thank you. Not very scary, though."
"No, not very, but it is fun to watch. And unique, too. In all my years of working with every kind of monster the underworld has to offer, I've never seen anything like that. You should be proud of it."
As the little fellow looked down at his feet bashfully, Jack stood up and said "Now, what's say we head over into town and start looking for ways you can help with Halloween next year?"
"Alright," said the little fellow, getting up from his spot under the tombstone and joining Jack. The two began to walk together towards the gates that led from the cemetery into the main town.
As he strode through the dark dry grass and fallen leaves, Jack mused aloud "I wonder if you'll have any skills with potions? The witches could always use some extra help with their brewing. Are you a good swimmer? So far I think the Undersea Gal is the only one of us who has shown any particular aptitude in the water. Do you —" he looked down to address the little fellow, and then realized that the little fellow was not in fact beside him anymore. He glanced back and saw the creature several feet behind him. It was only then that Jack noticed that the little fellow's small legs needed to take quite a few more steps to match Jack's tall lanky stride.
"Oh… sorry!" Jack called, and stopped to wait for the little fellow to catch up. He would need to remember to walk a bit slower.
A little while later, Jack and his new friend stood next to the slime fountain in the town square. They watched as the various denizens of Halloweentown slunk and oozed and crawled and hopped and flew in every direction, going about their early preparations for next Halloween, as well as whatever day-to-day lives (or deaths) they might have had. On the horizon, the jack-o-lantern sun rose over the distant hills and grinned down at them all.
Jack was thinking hard. He had given the little fellow the tour of Halloweentown, but nothing had grabbed them as the ideal position. There was no obvious vacuum to be filled, and even in the areas where an extra pair of hands (or claws, or tentacles, etc.) could have been useful, the unfortunate little creature didn't seem especially qualified for any job. He couldn't fly. He was too small to help Behemoth chop the wood for midnight fires. He didn't know the first thing about mad science.
Jack thought as he watched the monsters all rushing around. And even though he tried to not to reflect on it, he couldn't help but think that soon, they would all be rushing to him, needing instructions on where to hang their shrunken heads or where to find enough blood to paint walls with. The idea made him sigh.
Forcing his mind away from his future worries, in favor of his current worries, he said "Well, little fellow, we certainly have our job cut out for us. Do any ideas come to mind?"
"No," came the little creature's glum voice. Jack glanced down at him. The head had swiveled back to the gray "unhappy" side again, and the little thing seemed to be absentmindedly fiddling with things on the ground. Jack looked again, raising his non-existent eyebrows, and asked "What's that you're doing there?"
The little fellow was sitting on the ground; before him were several little piles, which he seemed to be adding to. At Jack's question, he looked up and said "Oh, well, when I'm upset I just like to, er, organize."
Jack raised another nonexistent eyebrow. "Organize?"
"Yes," said the little creature shyly. "I just noticed that all these leaves, and these pebbles, and these eyeballs, were all so scattered and disorganized. I thought, since I was so close to the ground anyway, and everyone else seems too busy, I might as well go ahead and sort them out."
"Really?" said Jack, thoughtfully. He peered down at the ground. Sure enough, the cobblestones around the little fellow were quite clean. There was a pile of leaves, a pile of loose pebbles, and even the few scattered eyeballs gathered into a bunch.
As Jack observed, the little one had already gone back to his task. "Oh, some talon clippings!" he said as he eagerly started a new pile, his face flipping back to happy at his latest discovery.
Jack thought. And thought, and thought, and then nodded. He was satisfied with the decision he had come to. "So, you like to organize things, do you, my little friend?"
"Well, yes," said the creature, "it gives me something to do, out in the hinterlands by myself."
"Well," said Jack, "you won't need to do it in the hinterlands anymore. There's plenty right here in town that needs putting in order."
"Really?" asked the little fellow. Jack nodded vigorously.
"Why, with a good organizer such as yourself, my job would be much easier, and I could spend more time on new ideas every year. You could be… you could be…" he paused, and he thought for a moment. "…why, you could be the Mayor of Halloweentown!"
"The Mayor? You mean it?" The little fellow's smile, impossibly, seemed to grow even bigger. But then, his face switched back to the worried side as he remembered something. "But, aren't mayors elected? Everyone votes for them?"
"Hmm," said Jack, "how right you are!" He raised his voice and looked around. "Everyone! Your attention, please!"
Everyone immediately stopped and looked at Jack expectantly, as they always did whenever he spoke.
Jack pointed down at his diminutive companion. "I believe this fellow," he yelled, "would make the best mayor Halloweentown could ever want!"
Everyone nodded and murmured agreement, despite not knowing who the little monster was. Whatever Jack said sounded good to them.
"To that end," Jack continued, "we will now have an election! Are there any questions before we vote?"
From the midst of the crowd, the werewolf raised his hand. "Is anyone else running?"
"Good question," said Jack. "Would any other candidates like to step forward?"
He waited. So did the crowd. There was only silence, except for the distant chirriping of the zombie crickets.
"Alright then!" cried jack after a minute. "The election is ready to take place! All votes for this little fellow here?"
Everyone in the crowd raised their hand, or claw, or tentacle, or whatever amorphous appendage could best substitute for a hand.
"All votes for the other candidate?"
Nothing was raised.
"So be it!" Jack said. He reached down his long skinny arms and lifted the little man up above the crowd. "Citizens of Halloweentown… here is your Mayor!"
There was a great cheer from all the assembled monsters, as the little fellow's happy face blushed and beamed in the air.
And that, dear children, is how Halloweentown got its mayor. How a little nothing of a monster discovered his real calling. And how the pumpkin king got some well-needed help.
