Author's Note: I decided to split this chapter up into two parts, so the next one should be up soon! Enjoy~
There were few things in life that gave Merle Dixon pure joy. One was money, two was whiskey, and the third was playing tricks on those around him.
That was partly why Merle loved Halloween so much. The other part was watching children scream in terror and seeing women scantily clad in kinky outfits. He also loved Halloween because of the annual Halloween party he would throw.
Now, the Golden Blade wasn't the only brothel in town, it was just the only all-male brothel. There were two other, all-female brothels in town as well.
Yes, it was a very, very horny town.
Every year, the brothels would converge on the Golden Blade and team up, offering their customers a chance a selection between girls, boys, or both; something that wouldn't be available any other day of the year. Customers paid an unusually hefty entrance fee, and from there it was up to them to get laid, if they didn't, well, there was always next year.
Merle found this part funny, he called it the 'trick or treat' part of the night.
There was always hired extra help in preparation for the Halloween party, Merle claimed that one of the housemates would "fuck somethin' the fuck up," and he was probably right.
So, Bob, the chef that just moved to town, was hired to do his thing and make sure the food was perfect, Merle had his competition to impress, after all.
Herschel, being the best party decorator in town, was always hired to turn the elegant brothel into a gruesome, scary mess. And, year after year, he came through. One year he made the place into a vampire lair, one year he did a witches coven, and another he transformed the place into a haunted house. Herschel never did reveal what he was planning on until it was already finished.
In the meantime, Merle had tricks to plan.
For Halloween, he had decided to be a drug dealer. So, he'd put on a wife-beater shirt, saggy jeans, with a fake gun tucked in the back of his jeans. In preparation for one of his later tricks, Merle screwed on the fake hand he had but never wore, placing the blade in his desk.
The housemates also readied themselves for tonight's activities.
Glenn had decided to go as a pizza delivery boy, Daryl was dressed as a biker, clad in his leather vest with angel wings on the back and a chain hanging from his jeans, Shane for some reason had decided to become a sexy priest, which left everyone dumbfounded, Dale was a tourist, clad in a Hawaiian shirt, cargo capris, binoculars, and a bucket hat, and, naturally, Tyreese was a big, cuddly, teddy bear.
Before the other brothels arrived, Merle set up his treat bowl outside on the porch of the brothel.
See, every year on Halloween, no child ever trick or treated at the Golden Blade. For some odd reason, this upset Merle. He found it somewhat offensive that children were not allowed anywhere near the whorehouse. But, this time around, Merle had a plan.
He would set the treat bowl on the porch, luring the children to the bowl and taking the treats.
Of course, Merle could never actually give out treats, so he decided to give out condoms instead. And the sign on the bowl would read, "Horny lil' bitchez" in true classy Merle fashion.
It was his middle finger to the system.
Just as Herschel was finishing up, Merle stepped into the foyer and looked around. "Looks like a rodeo," Merle mumbled, kicking a randomly placed hay bale.
Herschel frowned, "What? No!" he said, walking over to a fake zombie sitting on the couch in the lounge, "It's a barn," he said, looking to the ceiling with wide, imaginative eyes, "full of walkers!" he finished, motioning towards the blood covered dummy.
Merle stood silently for a long minute, just looking between Herschel and the zombie and wondering if the old man had finally lost it. "….The fuck is a walker?" he asked with an edge to his voice.
Herschel looked at him through narrowed eyes, "A walking dead person." He said, as if it were basic knowledge.
"A zombie." Merle corrected.
"No, a walker." Herschel insisted.
Merle stared at the old man for another couple of seconds. "You know what a zombie is, don't ya?"
"Yes," Herschel said in a tired voice, "but in this world," he said as he motioned around the dark, barn themed room, "they're called walkers."
"Yep," Merle nodded, "I think it's time for you to go-"
"You go outside, you risk your life!" the old man said loudly. "You take a sip of water, you risk your life! You take a nap, you risk your life! You have sex in a brothel, you risk your life!" Merle slowly began backing away as Herschel grew more and more passionate, "you….you…you," Herschel looked around for another thing to say.
Just then, Bob walked in, holding a tray of buffalo wings, "Who wants to try my 'Tingy Dingy Hot Damn Wingys'!?" he asked cheerfully.
Herschel quickly pointed at the tray, "You eat a dingy damn wingy, you risk your life!" the old man cried.
Bob's smile melted, and he looked down at the tray, "Oh, no, I cooked 'em through and through." He said, a sad edge to his voice.
"Yeeaahhhh," Merle said as he walked over to his desk, where a 'walker' sat in his seat. Pulling the drawer open, he grabbed a bundle of money and handed it to Herschel as he showed him the way to the door, and promptly escorted him through it.
Stepping back into the lounge, Merle plucked a buffalo wing from the tray and took a bite. He sounded his approval by way of muffled moans. "Make more of these, a lot more." Merle said as he walked away. Bob's smile quickly returned.
Walking to the staircase, Merle swallowed the last of the meat from the wing and bit at the bone before he called, "Get down here ya morons!" he called up.
Slowly, the housemates began to file down the stairs.
"Are you fuckin' serious?" Merle asked when all of the housemates had made it down and were now standing in a line before him. "A priest, a pizza boy, a tourist, and a teddy bear?" he asked, looking at Shane, Glenn, Dale, and Tyreese. Merle gave a nod to Daryl, as if to say his costume was adequate.
"Hey, c'mon man, your costume sucks too." Shane said, pointing at Merle.
Glenn stepped forward and pointed at the gun tucked in Merle's belt, "Yeah, seriously, a fake gun?"
"Oh! You know who you should've been!?" Tyreese calls out. Everyone turns to look at him, "Oh, wait, wait, what's that guy's name from that movie?" the stares become blank, "You know, that 'Guardians of the Milky Way' or something like that."
"'Guardians of the Galaxy'?" Glenn says, his tone a bit acidic.
"Yeah, yeah! He should've been that blue guy, right!?" Tyreese motions toward Merle, who had begun biting the inside of his cheek to keep from growling.
"You mean Yondu?" Glenn asks, his face lighting up as he turns back to look at Merle as he nods his head enthusiastically, "Yeah! You-" Glenn is cut off by Merle's death stare. "No." Glenn says, stepping back and hiding between Shane and Tyreese.
Just as Merle opens his mouth to begin cussing at the housemates, a knock comes at the front door, and he is forced to turn away from them.
Opening the door, Merle greeted the first brothel owner, Carol. "Carol," Merle said, not flatly, but not friendly, either.
"Merle," She mimicked his tone. She and her girls all entered the foyer, and spread out quickly, finding places to be before the customers arrive. As soon as they got settled, a couple caterers stepped out of the kitchen and made their rounds with trays of finger food.
Most of the housemates fanned out and mingled with the women. Though the owners of the brothels were very competitive towards each other, the prostitutes couldn't care less, and usually spent the duration of the Halloween party swapping war stories with each other and seeing who had it worst of them all. They were close, as close as people can be who rarely see each other.
Tyreese came to stand by Merle's side as he scarfed down a few more buffalo wings. "Where's Karen?" Tyreese asked.
Karen had been one of Carol's girls for a number of years, she had grown to be a very close friend to Tyreese, only now he couldn't seem to find her amidst the group of girls. "Heard she got an STD." Merle said flatly as he picked up another buffalo wing.
"And?" Tyreese asked, turning his attention fully on Merle.
"And," Merle held up his buffalo wing and grabbed the toothpick he'd been using to pick the pieces of meat out of his teeth, holding the chicken wing out in front of Tyreese, he promptly stabbed the wing rather violently. Holding the wing by the toothpick deeply impaled within it, Merle reached into his pocket and grabbed his lighter. Holding the lighter to the chicken, Merle set the wing ablaze with a theatric "Woosh!"
Tyreese's eyes went wide and he looked like he was going to be sick. He quickly scampered off. Daryl appeared at Merle's side, "You gonna tell him she's just in the bathroom?" he asked.
Merle shrugged and wheezed out a laugh as he watched Tyreese scamper off toward the bathroom. "He's headed there now." he said, "He'll figure it out." Merle turned and put his burning chicken straight into Daryl's glass of fruit punch.
"Man, what the fuck?" Daryl grumbled.
"Shhh," Merle hushed him, "See those two over in the corner?" he asked pointing discreetly towards two of Carol's girls laughing in the corner of the room.
"Yeah, what about 'em?" Daryl asked, still frowning down at his soiled drink.
"Those are her best players," Merle said, narrowing his eyes, "Tara, lesbian extraordinaire, and the exotic beauty booty next to her is Sasha."
Daryl tried not to laugh at Merle's last few words, though it took some serious willpower. "Those two have been drawin' 'em into Sophia's Den." Sophia's Den was the name of Carol's brothel, though no one was quite sure why she had decided to name it that.
A knock at the door snapped Merle out of his trance scoping out the competition. He walked over and swung the door open, revealing the owner of the second brothel, Michonne.
Neither one of the said any pleasantries, they hated each other. Merle just stood aside and let her and her girls enter.
Returning back to his spot beside Daryl, Merle grumbled once more. "You see the two who just came in sitting on the hay bale?" he asked, pointing towards to girls dressed as cowgirls sitting together and looking very at ease.
"The blonde one's name is Beth, and the brunette is Maggie; they're sisters. You know how much people pay for a couple of sisters?! Fuckin' ridiculous." He whined, "And the senorita over there," he motioned toward a girl dressed as a tango dancer, "name's Rosita, yeah, she's a feisty lil bonita." He grumbled.
"We need somethin' exotic." Merle decided suddenly.
Daryl shrugged, "We got Tyreese and Glenn."
Merle shook his head and narrowed his eyes, "No, not a blackie or the Chinese yella."
"Korean," Daryl corrected as he grabbed another drink from a passing tray and placed his ruined drink onto it.
"Hush up, boy." Merle said. "I need me a Mexican."
Daryl took a sip of his drink, "That's another paycheck." He said. Merle's eyes went wide, and then slowly went back to normal.
"You're right, we don't need no Mexican." He said. A knock came from the front door, and Merle made a move to answer it, but it swung open just seconds after the knock.
In stepped T-Dog, clad in nothing but a speedo and a pair of swimming goggles. Around his neck hung about a dozen fake gold medals. "Oh God," Merle whispered as his palm came up to cover his face.
While the Golden Blade was the only official male brothel in town, there were always freelancers. T-Dog operated on his own. He was a one-man-show; a very bad one-man-show that made people embarrassed just watching it but they applauded out of sheer pity.
"How the hell did he even know about-"
"Woo!" T-Dog yelled out, "Man, am I ready for a party," he said, "Michael Phelps in the house!" he called, closing the door behind him and sliding towards Beth. "Are you a gold medal?" he asked, "Cuz I can see you around my neck, if ya know what I mean," he finished, flicking his tongue a couple of times and slurping the air.
Beth and Maggie quickly jumped up and walked to the other side of the room. "T-Dog," Michonne came to stand near him, "no one here is a client. They haven't arrived yet."
T-Dog nodded his head with his hands on his waist. "Oh," he said calmly with a smile on his face, "Are those buffalo wings?" he asked, making a beeline for the food tray a caterer was holding beside Merle.
Everyone resumed their previous conversations as Merle glared at T-Dog stealing chicken from the tray he had deemed his own. "T-Dog," he said in a mere growl, the other man looked up from the tray as he chewed, "you are not Michael Phelps."
T-Dog looked offended, and pointed to his speedo, "Yeah I am, how do you explain these gold medals?" he then motioned to the chucks of tin foil spray painted gold around his neck.
"You are nothing like Michael Phelps," Merle said in a threatening tone, "you're fat, you're black, and you're ugly as fuck!"
"Well, you took the drug dealer getup man, what was I supposed to do?!" T-Dog fired back. Daryl started laughing and walked away to join the bunch of prostitutes mingling in the lounge.
Soon the guests would arrive, and this party would really get started.
Author's Note: Alright, so that's the chapter! Hope you enjoyed and found it amusing! This chapter had a lot of references from the earlier seasons but next chapter will have a couple ones from the 5th season, though I will make sure not to give away any spoilers the next chapter would be better enjoyed if you're up to date!