My Halloween Story-Part 1

RTotD (Random Thought of the Day): Have you noticed how when two girls stare at each other, you automatically assume that they're angry with each other, but when two guys do the same, the automatic assumption is that they're gay??I mean, seriously, WTF???This is so genderist. I mean,as much as I love the '70s hippie phrase, this is seriously taking it overboard... 

People say I'm the world's greatest writer. OK, fine, they didn't actually say that. I am, nonetheless, a good writer. OK, fine, nobody actually said that either. However, I do compare favorably to contemporary classical writers. Fine, fine, the exact words were:"Dude, your story sucks, but at least it doesn't suck as much as the story we had to do for English."

My own ego aside, I mentioned before that I never understood the point of horror story. And that is true. So, naturally a friend made a bet that I couldn't write a horror story. Fortunately, I love a challenge: So here goes nothing:

Spoiler Alert:Story is not actually very horrifying. 

It was a Halloween night. The type with all the cliche stuff: full moon, which was scary, lots of scary clouds, wolves howling in the distance, which was scary, scary-looking trees rustling scarily and really scary music in the background, which was scary. A scary scene, indeed. 

Anyway, I was walking home from the grocery store with my best friend, a black guy, a airhead girl and a moron(y'know, standardized cast) when we saw an old lady in black with a broomstick beckoning us to help us cross the street. Needless to say, we did the only logical, 21st century thingy. We ignored her. We were some way apart from her when suddenly a loud, hag-like voice declared:

"A curse be upon thy that shalt naught helpth me cross thy yonder street. Three and more should death embrace you, thrice and more should thy not escape unscathed. And if one of thou doth live, then thou shalt live a miserable life, ever-guilty, blaming thyself for thy allies' death" 

Just as we looked back, there was an explosion of green smoke and the old lady was gone. Weird. 

"What did she say," the black guy asked.

"No clue, think she said something about us swearing" the airhead said, chewing gum and tossing her hair over.

I rolled my eyes. "Look at the clues, guys. Old lady? Black dressing? Broomstick? explosion? Green smoke? Hag-like voice? Ring any bells?" 

Apparently not. 

Trying to keep patient, I said, my voice grim, "This can only mean one thing"

"What?" everybody screamed in unison

"That lady janitors are far more retro than I've thought."

To be continued