By Daniel P. Dern: As you may or may not (more likely, may not) know, I have, over the past decade or so, written, aside from File770 scrolls and items, and other stuff, a bunch (a few dozen) stories for kids (and their adults), under the umbrella name of Dern Grim Bedtime Tales, Few Of Which End Well. They are intended to be Morally Instructive To The Listener, and Therapeutically Cathartic For the Reader (and The Writer).

For example:

• “The Girl Who Never Cut Her Hair”
• “The Boy Who Would Not Brush His Teeth”
• “The Girl Whose Friends Did Not Want To Play With Her”
• “The Boy Who Stuck His Elbow In His Ear”
• “The Boy Who Didn’t Want His Food Touching Each Other”
• “The Children Who Did Not Like Gilbert And Sullivan”
• “The Girl Who Loved Animals, Especially Dragons”

Some include SFnal memes and themes, e.g. robots, dragons, aliens. Also, unsurprisingly (to those who know me), the occasional pun.

Most are short enough (flash length) to be read aloud (and heard) in a few minutes – some in under a minute! So I can do a reading of half a dozen pieces in ten to fifteen minutes (depending on whether I’m also doing magic tricks in the same session) — which makes them ideal for short/shared/group program items.

I’ve done readings at dozens of cons (Arisia, Boskone, WorldCons mostly) in DragonsLair (kids  programming) and in main program readings, and also in some mundane places (libraries and schools). (They aren’t, mea culpa, yet available via any of the usual outlets. To say I’m interested and/but embarrassingly behind in that goes, like Milo’s car in The Phantom Tollbooth, without saying.)

Mike Glyer has graciously agreed to run my Halloween one, “The Children Who Ate All Their Halloween Candy Too Soon”, as a scroll. (I’ve done a quick update on some of the Internet/technology bits.)

Enjoy!

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THE CHILDREN WHO ATE ALL THEIR HALLOWEEN CANDY TOO SOON

(A Dern Grim Bedtime Tale)

by Daniel P. Dern

©2023 Daniel P. Dern

There once was a boy and a girl who ate all their Halloween candy too soon.

And they had a lot.

They had carefully compared notes with their friends of all the best places to go Trick-or-Treating, and checked the lists they had kept from last year.

They used their phones to update their maps, and tag each house with what they knew, with special Halloween emojis including some they’d created. They made spreadsheets, and charts, and more maps, and then planned their routes based on what they wanted most, and which houses started being available first, and which ones went latest, and which houses tended to run out first. They added in weather and road condition feeds, and alerts from all their social media accounts.

They organized with some of their friends, and set up groups, with several kids having extra bags “for my little sister who’s sick.”

They set up lists and chats and a Discord server real-time “who’s where” maps so they could communicate as the night went on. Of course, including pictures of new or interesting houses, costumes and candy.

They made sure they had flashlights that worked, and extra batteries, plus ‘flashlight’ apps on their phones.  They convinced some of their parents to give them rides, either to other areas of town, or so they could start at the right places.  It was like planning for a day at Disney World, except with even more to do, and much less time – although fewer and much shorter lines.

They carefully selected costumes that they could walk quickly in, and that were easy to tell what they were, so they didn’t have to waste time explaining.  They practiced walking around and up and down stairs with their costumes on, and made sure they had bags that opened easily and let stuff be dropped in.  They practiced walking in groups that could go quickly along the sidewalk, and forming lines at the door that could be ‘treated’ quickly.  They got one of their older siblings to pretend being an adult at a door, and practiced saying “Trick or treat!” and “Boo” and even “Thank you very much!” — because they had learned that sometimes saying “Thank you” got them extra candy from a house.

They had chosen and designed their costumes so they could wear their old backpacks, to periodically unload what they had already gotten from the bags they were holding out, so that those bags would look emptier.  They got extra bags, with their names on them, to leave in the car or have one of the adults carry.  And they got pouches they could carry, to quickly put in the things they didn’t want their parents to see, either because it was something they weren’t allowed to have, or because it was something they didn’t want to have to “share” with their parents. Or just because they could.

One or two kids even got extra masks and capes, so they could go back to a house that gave good stuff and pretend they were somebody else.

And so, of course, they ended up with a lot of candy.

A lot. 

Their parents, of course, didn’t let them keep it all.  “Junk.”  “Sugar.”  “Junk.” “You don’t need five of these.” “Junk.” “Yuck.” “Sorry, your allergies. ” And there was a lot that they didn’t want, and even after they traded among themselves, there was still a bunch that nobody wanted.

But even after all that, they still had a lot.

But a week later — a week! — it was all gone!  All the candy, that is.  They still had lots of little boxes of raisins and tiny bags of pretzels and some mini-fruit roll-ups, but the candy was all gone — eaten, that is.

Somehow, the boy and the girl who had eaten all their Halloween candy had not gotten sick — or caught.

One afternoon, the day after the boy and the girl had eaten the last of their Halloween candy, the doorbell rang, and when the boy and the girl went to the door — which they were not supposed to do without an adult in the room, but their big brother was in the bathroom — they saw a small green creature.

It had scaly, slimy skin and cool waving purple tentacles all over its head, and had three eyes as big as fried eggs, and was wearing what looked like a shirt made of old DVDs and soup-can lids.

The creature held up four arms — or armlike tentacles, it was hard to tell — and said “Wuggereet!”

“What?” said the boy politely.

“Wuggereet!” repeated the creature.

“Trick-or-Treat?” said the girl.

The creature nodded, making all its tentacles wobble and the shiny disks on its clothes clatter.

The boy and the girl looked at each other.  “Halloween was last week,” said the boy.

“Wuggereet!” repeated the creature.

“Wait here,” said the girl.  She ran back to her room, and came back with a handful of boxes of raisins and two fruit roll-ups.  “This is all we have left.”

“Zhacklaw,” said the creature.  “Endee.”

“I’m sorry,” said the boy.  “We don’t have any left.”

The creature shook again, set down its bags, and reached its four arm-tentacles through the shiny disks at its sides, and pulled out what looked like a ray gun, a blaster, a disintegrator, and a space disrupter, and pointed them at the boy and the girl.

“Zhacklaw,” said the creature.  “Endee.”

“We don’t have any,” said the girl, who was still holding the raisins and fruit roll-ups.  “This is all we’ve got.”

“Dreet!” said the creature, and pointed its weapons at the boy and the girl. “Zhacklaw!”

“I’m sorry,” the boy said. “We ate all the good stuff already.”

Zzzzppppp!

– END –

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