Larry wants to see how many people he can murder with a shovel in the next 24 hours. Ready? Go!
There's a mad man with a shovel in the yard.
Agnes creeps slowly over toward the window, her diabetic socks scrunching quietly against the grains of the carpet. Those opaque tan support stockings restrict the movement of her already compromised elderly legs, as she hobbles over to door convinced that what she has seen is harmless trick-or-treater.
...Probably somebody's dad.
Agnes opens the door. He's standing on the front step. Beneath the glow of the yellow street light, she can see his burned face, which she assumes is some kind of a plastic half-mask. He flashes her a mad grin and removes his hat. He has either had a horrible accident, or is extremely serious about cos-play. The old lady settles for the latter. Though, of course, she is old, so she does not know what the word cos-play means. Her grandson has explained it to her many times. She still has absolutely no idea what it means.
"Oh, my!" Agnes exclaims in her raspy old lady's voice. "What a frightening costume you're wearing! You must have gone through a lot of trouble to shave half of your hair off like that...or is that a wig?"
The man doesn't answer, at first. He takes a few steps forward. He's holding a plastic candy bucket shaped like a jack-o-lantern, and the old lady assumes that he must be in character. He's harmless, she tells herself. He must be somebody's dad.
"Trick-or-treat," he says, and she notices that the man talks with a noticeable lisp, like someone with a damaged larynx. She wonders if he is just pretending. Or maybe he's just mentally handicapped...or has a speech impediment.
"Here, have some candy," Agnes says, and she drops a couple of reeses peanut-butter cups in the man's bucket.
The man's insane grin broadens, and Agnes is struck with jolt of what she perceives as irrational fear. She wants to run back in the house...but that would be rude. He's probably just mentally handicapped, she thinks to herself. It would be rude to run away from someone just because they're a little slow.
She smiles back nervously, and takes a step backward, inching slowly back toward the entrance of the house. He sees what she is doing and takes a step forward, swinging the shovel.
The shovel hits her in the side of the head, and she falls to the pavement like a sack of potatoes, or in this case, an 86-year-old woman in a pair of tan support stockings.
She can feel the pain. The blood is dripping down the side of her head, drizzling down, filling her right ear with puss and gore.
She rolls onto her back, staring into the eyes of her attackers, as he advances on her, raising the shovel. It comes down hard on her face.
There is pain.
...And then nothing.
He is the last thing that she would ever see alive. How strange it is when she gets back up again. She feels bizarrely light, so very oddly indifferent. She doesn't care that the door to her house remains open and unlocked. She chases that man into the night.
He runs from her. He screams, but not in a frightened way. It is the elated scream of a child playing a game.
"NAH-NA-NAH-NA-NAAAA! Catch me if you can...you old bat!" he yells as he continues running.
The old woman is not very fast, even as a ghost. But she is a bit faster than she was alive. She sprints toward him, intent on her vengeance.
She has him in her sights, he's jogging with a spring in his step, twirling his shovel and laughing maniacally.
Already, he has his next victim in sight.
Who do you want Larry to murder with a shovel next? If you actually care, then send me a message or leave a review telling me what character from the show (it can also be a character from another show, a character you make up, or a real person that you know in real life) that you would like to read about being brutally murdered.