2008 Home Improvement Special
Chapter 3: Halloween 3 1994
The Prank War II
Off-screen happenings from Season 4
A/N: Halloween 1992: Tim had the last prank. Halloween 1993, as we all know, though Jill got him with Rose, Tim reclaimed the crown. Tim now has a reign of terror over Halloween.
Mark was walking along the hall of the house in Detroit when he saw it. It scared the hell out of him. All he wanted was to get something from the microwave. He was alert, because Tim swore to prank whoever refused to join him the day before.
"Dad?"
There, on the floor, plainly dead by fright, judging by the pale face, wide empty eyes, and white foam on the mouth, was Tim Taylor and his oldest son Brad.
"DAD?"
The bodies didn't move. Could this be a trick? No. Not even Tim could fake his face, or the emptiness of the eyes. "RANDY! GET OVER HERE!"
"WHAT?"
Randy ran in, and stopped at the sight. Jill's voice came from upstairs. "What's going on?"
"Mom, dad's dead!" Randy said fearfully. Mark was actually beginning to sob.
Jill was just putting her dress on when she heard it… "AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
She rushed downstairs. Tim was up, face painted white, laughing over two cowering children. "What's going on?"
"AAHHHHH! Oh, it's just you mom."
"No duh, Mark!"
"He scared half to death!"
"Yeah, I didn't I?"
"It's not funny, dad! You swore not to prank me!"
"Not my fault he got you like a chicken!" Brad laughed.
"I'm not a chicken!" Mark yelled.
Brad danced around Mark, making a mock chicken sound. "STOP!"
"Guys, stop!" Jill yelled. "I forbid any pranks this Halloween. Have fun, why don't you?"
She left. "Way to ruin the fun, Brad!" Randy yelled.
"HEY!" Tim yelled. "She's right. It's over. I claim victory this year."
For the day, it seemed Tim did have victory. But, upstairs, in what was called their lair, aka Mark's room, two boys sat plotting.
"What's in it for me?" Randy questioned, that mischievous smile on his face.
"I'll…"
"All your candy," Randy demanded.
"What, no half," Mark suggested.
"All."
"Half."
"Ok, three quarters."
"Fine!"
"Deal." They shook on it, and got to planning.
Meanwhile, Tim was laying back on the couch beside Jill. "You know honey, it seems what we said really got to them."
"What we said?" Jill repeated.
"And the best part is, I claim another victory," Tim said, a contented sigh coming out.
"What do you mean, 'we'?" Jill said angrily. "You're the one who keeps promoting this kind of behavior. Tim, this is exactly what influences children, when the father"-
Tim wasn't paying attention. When Jill talked psycho, Tim watched television. After an hour, he got up, and retreated back to their room. Jill followed two minutes later.
"Now what?" Jill asked. "Bed?"
"I guess," Tim yawned. "Another good year's work."
"Yeah, whatever."
As Jill followed Tim into bed, a horrible smell entered their nostrils. "Ug, Tim what the hell did you DO IN THERE!"
"Wasn't me," Tim said in a plugged-nose-kind-of-way. He too, jumped out of bed. As the smell filled the room, Jill could see no man, not even Tim, could manage this.
Tim braved the bed after fifteen minutes of surprise, and looked on his side. There, to his surprise and great annoyance, was a deflated balloon. It looked very dirty. "A stink bomb."
"That's it, this is the last!" Jill declared. "Leave it. Don't you dare bother with them, or else. They had their fun. You had yours."
"You call this fun," Tim said, holding the balloon up. "They got us both."
"It's your fault."
"Now they're gonna get me all next year too," Tim whined.
"No, they won't," Jill said. "They had their fun too."
So firm was Jill's decision, she went back into bed, this time to actually lay down before anything went off again. Suddenly, another sound went off. It was a loud farting noise.
"Honey!"
"Whoopie Cushion!" Jill raged. She looked as though she was about to breathe fire, but then, quite calmly, she said, "Next year, we're doing them in together."
"Really?"
"Ohh yeah."
Dear mom and dad,
You've been pranked. Dad for his reign of terror. Mom for being married to him. Leave this be, and no one will get hurt, 'cause we're working together this time.
Mark and Randy
A/N: See ya on Christmas.
