A Spooky Story For All Hallow's Eve

Nothing scares me more than having to be creative early on a Saturday morning. So to avoid that particularly frightening scenario, here's a scary story from 2007 to tell the kids around the bonfire tonight. Have a spooky day!

Kiddies, gather 'round if you dare. Send the grown-ups out to pull the toilet paper out of the trees. It's time for Count Blogula's Scary Story Castle and a special Halloween edition. Somebody reach into Count Blogula's witches' cauldron and get me a brew. Yeah, yeah, I know it's more of a "cooler" than a cauldron. What, you kids don't have any imagination? Too many damn video games, that's your problem.

Okay, now listen up. Old Uncle Bloggy's got a scary tale for you here on Halloween. It was a dark and stormy night, back in Ireland a long time ago, back in the olden days. Like, I don't know, maybe a thousand years ago. Five thousand years ago, whatever. A long time ago. Anyway, it was dark and stormy, that's the spooky part. There was this creepy old house, see. Way out in the woods, a long way from the the nearest town. There wasn't even a Waffle House or a 7-11 out there. Now that's spooky. So in this creepy old house lived a creepy old fella named Jack. He lived out there all by his lonesome, save for his old black cat Jenny. Now on this dark and stormy night, you'll never guess what day it was. That's right. It was Thursday, the scariest day of the week. Also, it was the 29th of October, which might have been called two days before Halloween, but nobody called it Halloween yet, this being a couple thousand years ago at least. They just called it Thursday. So that Thursday, just about midnight, Jack was asnooze in his bed, Jenny curled up beside him, when all of the sudden he a heard a mournful groan. Kind of like the groan you'll hear Uncle Bloggy make if one of you kids doesn't grab me another beer out of the coo...uh, cauldron. So Jack hears this awful groan and then as he sat up in bed, what does he see but a ghost, come right through his wall. Then another one, and another until his little one room house looked like a spook convention. Old Jack was plenty scared, I don't mind telling you. And Jenny the black cat, she'd leapt so high she was hanging from the ceiling upside down by her claws, shaking like Jello which also hadn't been invented yet. Well, Jack, after getting over the initial shock, decided that he'd never get any sleep with all these dead folks having a veritable disco in his house, and started yelling and waving his arms, and swinging at the haints to try to scare them off. Nothing worked. Those spectres just spectated and then went right on about their business, which seemed to be trying to scare Jack and Jenny to death. They kept it up until dawn, until with the rising sun they melted away.

Well, the next night, you guessed it, the spooks came back, even more this time. More and louder and scarier. Some carried their heads in their hands, some were draped in chains, some brought along ghost dogs which gave poor Jenny fits, as one might imagine. Jack, with no sleep the night before gave a half-hearted attempt at scaring the phantoms away (including one who, coincidentally, had only half a heart) but he was too tired to make a good show of it. Dawn brought relief again, but Jack, now completely knackered, knew something had to be done. Poor Jenny had now been scared white and did nothing all day but cower in the corner being tormented by the newly emboldened mice. Then Jack had an idea. He ran out to his field and found a big turnip that had been over looked at harvest. He carried it home and hollowed it it out. Then he carved a scary, grimacing face in it, scarier than any ghost he'd seen the previous two nights. While Jenny looked on warily, Jack placed a burning candle inside and placed it just outside his front door. The horrible face glowed and flickered all night, and would you believe it? I need another another beer. Dig around, there's one near the bottom. Thank you. So. Anyway, would you believe it? Not one spook showed up that night. All of them had been scared away by Jack's lantern with the horrible, snaggled-toothed face. And from that day forward, when the end of October rolled around, Jack would carve another turnip or two, and it worked every time at keeping the ghosts away. Jack and old Jenny slept like the dead, ironically, happily ever after. And kids, can one of you can guess what Jack named his scary Halloween lantern?

That's right. He called it Hal O'Ween, after his cousin Hal who lived down the road and bore a strong resemblance to a snaggled-toothed turnip. And that's how Halloween got it's name.

True story. Ask your dad if it isn't. And ask him if he can spare a beer, will ya?

Happy Halloween, kiddies.