Disclaimer: I don't own Gargoyles; Disney does. No trademark or copyright infringement is intended. I make no money from this. Honey, I Shrunk the Kids is also not mine, and the story was inspired by that movie.

This story was commissioned by Mentoria, who is awesome. Her story concept was to make a Halloween story that involved a Honey, I Shrunk the Kids kind of situation. Then she let me run with it, and . . . well. All the flaws are mine, I can assure you.

Rating: T for language, gore, scary situations, humorous character deaths, and robot werewolves.

Summary: Happy Halloween from Castle Wyvern! Baby Alex exacts some revenge, Lex loses some VIP guests, and Brooklyn thinks the castle is haunted. 89% crack.

Notes: Takes place in the cartoon universe, post-Goliath Chronicles. You can assume that everything is canon-compliant, or at least intended to be so.

Honey, I Shrunk the Kids…

By probablyquantum

CHAPTER 1: Puck's Tale

The three boys were arguing in the hallway. Alex was dressed as a pirate, and he was cowering before a zombie and a ninja.

"What's your problem, Alex? "

"I just don't wanna go through the haunted house, is all. It's boring."

"You're scared. You're a spoiled sissy straight from new money who doesn't know how to have a good time."

"Am not!"

Owen narrowed his eyes as he watched the two boys turn to Alex, their hands on their hips as if they were tough. Really, humans could be so pathetic, especially when they were ten years old. It was times like these that Puck's leash felt much too tight. Not that long ago, he would have turned them into jackalopes or oysters, perhaps, or given them nasty dreams for life.

Now, he had to settle for all-too-human solution. He cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses, and said, "Is there a problem, Alexander?"

His charge shook his head, but the effect was ruined by a bright blush spreading across his face.

The zombie, the taller boy, sneered. "See, Johnny? Scared little Alex Xanatos needs his butler to hold his hand."

The shorter human, the ninja, chuckled. "You want your butler to go through the haunted house with us? Would that make you feel better?"

Owen almost smiled at the fierce glint burning in Alex's eyes, but he stopped himself. Owen Burnett did not smile, even when Puck was amused. "As it happens, young man, I am not a butler. You may call me Mr. Burnett, or sir, whichever you prefer. And to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

The bigger human—by comparison, at any rate—frowned, confronted by adult authority. He puffed out his chest and said, "I'm Morgan Shane, and this is John Palsgraff.

"Of the Pittsburgh Palsgraffs," Johnny added.

"A pleasure. I take it you are Anthony Shane's eldest, then?" The name was one Owen recognized. Anthony Shane came from old money, but nowadays he spent his time making new, state-of-the-art weaponry for various governments.

"I see you are looking for entertainment during the party." It was, in fact, All Hallow's Eve, and the gargoyle clan was hosting its annual bash for Manhattan's elites. The party had become a tradition, as had the custom of inviting the guest's horrid children along to see the haunted house that Fox, Lexington, and Brooklyn constructed every year.

"Yeah. We were going to the haunted house." Morgan crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Alex.

Alex shrugged. "It's boring. I've been through it every year."

"Whatever, it's the best house in the city. Which means you're just scared."

Puck squirmed. Technically, he needed to teach Alex a lesson in standing up for himself, and technically, teaching these bullies a lesson would be the best way to instruct Alex. Secretly, Puck smiled.

"Might I suggest a different form of entertainment?"

Alex was the only one who caught the subtle change in his demeanor. He waited to see what would happen.

Owen gestured toward the sitting room behind him. "I happen to know the world's best storyteller. He would be delighted to entertain you this evening with seasonally appropriate tales. Go in there and wait. He will be a long shortly."

Johnny and Morgan shared a perplexed glance and shrugged. "I guess that sounds okay," Morgan conceded. "If he's lame, we can still catch the house before it closes, right?"

"I assure you, there will be plenty of time." Owen held the door as the three boys filed into the room. Alex raised his eyebrows as if to ask a question as he passed. Owen smirked.

With the door closed and a glance around to make sure no one was watching, Puck changed back into his natural form and waited enough time to make sure his cover was convincing. After a few minutes, he opened the door and walked in.

"Uh, what are you supposed to be?" Johnny asked.

"What am I?" Puck exclaimed, his hand over his heart. "Now, that's not very polite. I thought you blue-blood types were born knowing Miss Manners by heart."

Johnny looked uncomfortable. "Um, I meant, what are you dressed as? Cause you look like a fairy."

Ah, yes. That silly human custom. Well, that certainly solved one of his problems. But fairy, really? These boys deserved a lot more than a good scare, but a warning glance from Alex calmed him down. "I'm dressed as Puck, the plucky trickster who serves Lord Oberon."

"Lord who?"

"Lord Oberon. Shakespeare?" He received two dumb, blank stares. "Good lord, they get dumber every year. Anyway, mortals, grab a cushion and gather round on the floor. We're here to discuss the misdeeds of a Halloween past."

He waited as curiosity overcame the boys, and all three settled down before him. He sat crossed-legged on a pillow and smiled.

"It all began," he said, "on a Halloween night just like this one. It was the first Halloween party after the gargoyle clan saved the city, several years ago." Alex's eyes widened, and Puck knew the boy recognized the story. "The Quarrymen had been run underground just a short time before, and the P.R. people here—that's public relations, for those of us who aren't learned enough to have heard of Lord Oberon, much less P.R. campaigns—decided they needed to do something to cement the clan's benevolent presence in the city.

"Broadway gave them the idea when he told Oprah that the only time he'd ever felt truly part of human society was when he walked the streets on his first Halloween in Manhattan. That's how this very party was born.

"But that first party was very different, too. The Quarrymen were still around, and some of them were hiding as friends of the clan, waiting for their chance for revenge. Some of them we knew about, but we tolerated them because, well, it's always better to keep your enemies close by. All that is another story, however, because this story is about five children of that first party's guests. At the party was Margaret Thompson, the daughter of an unimportant member of the People for Interspecies Tolerance. Margaret was there with her date, Andrew."

"Margaret Thompson? She died, didn't she?" Morgan asked.

"Killed by Quarrymen. My dad said so," Johnny replied proudly.

"Oh, no. Margaret's fate was far worse than that." Puck was satisfied with the ominous tone he used.

The two boys exchanged worried glances, but Alex rolled his eyes.

"As I was saying, Margaret and Andrew were there. They were both sophomores in high school, and this was their first date. The third wheel in their group was Alice Snow, Andrew's younger sister. She was a couple years behind them, if I remember correctly. Finally, I must reveal the two guests who ended up ruining poor Margaret's life. Those were James and Preston Wentworth, the two teenage sons of socialite James Wentworth the Third."

"I know who that is," Johnny said, his voice quiet. "He was John Castaway's secret right-hand-man. My—"

"—Your dad said so, I'm sure," Puck retorted. "It's rude to interrupt. Yes, we knew at the time who he was, but as I said, we wanted to keep an eye on him. But we're here to talk about poor Margaret Thompson and the other four, who were, arguably, luckier than Margaret."

"How were they luckier?"

"Hm? Oh, because they died."

The two brats were suitable impressed. Puck leaned forward, glad to have the audience eating out of his hands. It had been such a long time since he'd had any humans to play with.

And thus he began his tale.

To be continued very soon!