The Un-Haunted House

Once upon a time... in a galaxy far, far away....

Oh, sorry. That one is taken.

Once upon a time in the suburbs, in a completely normal neighbourhood, in a completely normal yard, there lived inside a completely normal house, a completely, boring, uninteresting, and downright dull family. There was a boy, Peter, and a girl, Jane, and two parents; a mother named Blanche, and a father named George. George was an accountant, because, of course, everyone knows that being an accountant, is the most boring of all jobs. Blanche sold plastic food containers, of a certain famous brand that shall not be mentioned, because of course, everyone knows that selling plastic food containers of a certain famous brand that shall not be mentioned, is the most boring of all jobs. Except maybe, being an accountant, but either way, Peter and Jane's parents had that covered. Both of them were grown-ups, and once you're a grown-up, as everyone knows, your age doesn't really matter. You're old any way you look at it.

Peter and Jane of course, went to a completely normal elementary school, and learned perfectly ordinary, boring things, so that they could grow up, and be perfectly ordinary people. Jane played with dolls, boring ones, with blonde hair, and neat, non-descript clothing, that came with the doll when it was purchased from a very ordinary department store. Peter played with toy trucks, and cars; he always obeyed traffic laws while driving his cars about the living room. Just like their parents, which, to them was just fine. The girl, Jane, was ten years old, and the boy Peter was eight years old. I relay the age of the children, because everyone knows that age is very important when you're a child. When you're eight, you're eight, no matter which way you look at it, you've got a bossy, nosey sister, no matter how ordinary you are.

The house this ordinary family lived in was painted white, with clean windows, nondescript, boring couches and chairs. It had a small porch, a green lawn, a little white fence that was designed to look ordinary, more than it was to keep their ordinary dog, who never ran away, or even though of running away, from running away. There was an ordinary oak tree, full of ordinary leaves, and a perfectly normal front walk. The perfectly normal from walk was clean, without weeds, and was utterly unblemished, until it became time for Halloween. Halloween makes everything strange, and is the only time of the year when things change significantly; for better or for worse. Everyone knows this, and if you didn't, to put things simply, you should.

One morning, while the children are at school, Blanche was off selling plastic food containers of a certain famous brand that shall not be mentioned, and the dog was in his little house, and George was at home, reading a very boring book about accounting on his day off, three nights before Halloween, a ghost walked down the sidewalk, towards the perfectly normal house. The ghosts's name was Thomas, and he was wearing an old brown cap, with a dusty old brown feather in the brim. He also wore old brown pants, an old white shirts, both with the occasional patch, or unpatched hole, and wore shoes that talked. No, not shoes with loose soles; his shoes really talked. And right now, his shoes happened to be singing On The Road Again, by Willy Nelson.

"I can't wait to be... on the road again," sang his shoes, in a terribly obnoxious voice.

"I hate it when you do that," says Thomas.

"On the road again..." continue his shoes.

Thomas unlatches the perfectly normal gate, and walks up to the perfectly normal house, and rings the bell, which is quite a monotonous "BONG" sound. His shoes have fallen silent, and he is grateful for the sound of the normal bell, without the terrible singing of his shoes accompanying it. George answers the door.

"Hello," says George. "What can I do for you?"

"Hello," says Thomas. "I am a ghost."

"We here in this perfectly normal house, do not believe in ghosts," says George.

"I can assure you I am such as I have said, sir, and am perfectly willing to prove it, in exchange for three nights of shelter," says Thomas.

"And if you do not prove yourself to be a ghost?" asks George, for he can really see no harm in such an endeavor.

"Then I will go away, and find another perfectly normal house to visit," says Thomas.

"And if you do prove yourself to be a ghost?" asks George, for he is a reasonable man, and reasonable men expect reasonable terms for their reasonable agreements.

"I will be taking up permanent residence in your home, until forever and ever, amen," says Thomas, in a perfectly reasonable tone, even with a hint of cheerfulness.

"Those are reasonable terms, after all, a ghost does not eat, or cost unfortunate repairs?" asks George, a little skeptically, just to be sure of himself, even though, as a perfectly reasonable man, he did not believe in ghosts.

"No, sir, ghosts do not eat, and we are clean creatures, who might be a little noisy from time to time, but cost no unfortunate repairs," Thomas says.

"Then we have an agreement, sir. May I ask your name?" says George, very genially, for he was beginning to like this potential ghost, and his very boring face... began to smile.

"My name is Thomas, sir. May I ask your name?" said Thomas, just as genially, for he liked this living man, and he smiled right back, with surprisingly not disgusting teeth. (You should know, a ghost's teeth are not always rotten. That is a gross, and popular assumption that is overly discriminative, and must be stamped out, as soon as possible, before some sort of legal consequence occurs.)

"My name is George, please come upstairs, and make yourself at home. You can stay in Peter's room. It is through the door that says Peter on the sign, hanging from the doorknob," said George, and he positively beamed, and let the ghost in, and promised further talk after supper, and they also agreed on a demonstration of Thomas's ghostliness, as well.

On that same morning, a vampire walked down the ordinary sidewalk, towards the not so ordinary house, where the ghost was temporarily-until-further-notice-or-proof-of-ghostliness was residing, and where George had stopped reading his boring book on accounting, and was now puzzling over how he would tell his family that he had made a bargain with a very nice potential ghost named Thomas. The vampire's name was Julia, and she was wearing a bright purple feather, sticking out of a tall, curly mass of green hair. She was also wearing an old green dress, purple granny boots, that went way up her ankles, and a purple cape, that constantly made knock-knock jokes, which were incredibly old and not very funny at all.

"Knock knock," said the purple cape.

"You're driving me crazy!" the vampire named Julia exclaimed.

"Come on, once more. Knock knock?" said the purple cape, though, no response was made.

Julia unlatches the now, not so normal gate, and strolls up the walk, to the not so normal house, and she rings the bell, which now has a slightly less monotonous, "BOOOONG" sound to it. Her cape has fallen silent, and she is grateful for the much more cheerful sound of the bell. George once more answers the door.

"Hello," says George. "What can I do for you?"

"Hello," says Julia. "I am a vampire."

"We here in this not so normal house, do not believe in vampires," says George. For he was honestly starting to doubt the normality of his surroundings.

"I can assure you I am such as I have said, sir, and am perfectly willing to prove it, in exchange for three nights of shelter," says Julia.

"And if you do not prove yourself to be a vampire?" asks George, for he can really see no harm in such an endeavor, besides, he's already done it for a potential ghost... why not a potential vampire?

"Then I will go away, and find another not so normal house to visit," says Julia, for once a house has lost some of its normality, it's not hard to tell. Especially if you're a vampire.

"And if you do prove yourself to be a vampire?" asks George, for he is still a reasonable man, and reasonable men expect reasonable terms for their reasonable agreements, despite the fact that there was a potential ghost upstairs.

"I will be taking up permanent residence in your home, until forever and ever, amen," says Julia, in a perfectly reasonable tone, even with a hint of cheerfulness.

"Those are reasonable terms, after all, a vampire in this day and age would not kill to eat, or cost unfortunate repairs?" asks George, a little skeptically, just to be sure of himself, even though, as a perfectly reasonable man, he did not believe in vampires.

"No, sir, we all have accounts at our local blood banks, and we are clean creatures, who might be a little toothy from time to time, but cost no unfortunate repairs," Julia says.

"Then we have an agreement, ma'am. May I ask your name?" says George, very genially, for he was beginning to think this potential vampire was very pretty, and his very boring face... began to blush.

"My name is Julia, sir. May I ask your name?" said Julia, just as genially, for she liked this living man, and she smiled right back, with surprisingly tan features. (You should know, a vampire's face is not always pale. In fact, some of them enjoy a nice tan. That is a gross, and popular assumption that is overly discriminative, and must be stamped out, as soon as possible, before some sort of legal consequence occurs.)

"My name is George, please come upstairs, and make yourself at home. You can stay in Jane's room. It is through the door that says Jane on the sign, hanging from the doorknob," said George, and he positively beamed, and let the potential vampire in, and promised further talk after supper, and they also agreed on a demonstration of Julia's vampireness, as well.

About this time, of course, poor George was really going a little out of his head. I mean, how many people could say that they had a potential ghost named Thomas, and a potential vampire named Julia upstairs, waiting for supper? Not many, George was certain, so he laid down for a nap, to clear his potentially muddled head. While he was asleep, the other grown up, Blanche, came home from selling plastic food containers of a certain famous brand that shall not be mentioned. She began reading a very boring book about selling plastic food containers of a certain famous brand that shall not be mentioned. Blanche was a very ordinary woman, who was slightly distracted by the fact that her house was seeming a little more than ordinary this afternoon. She had no idea why, because she had yet to go upstairs, and there was still some time before the children came home from school, so neither party had any idea about the strange things that were about to cause a major upheaval in their painfully ordinary lives.

Soon, the doorbell went off, and Blanche quite nearly almost jumped out of her skin. Seeing as how Blanche is very much like her husband, we can hurry things along by saying that after only fifteen minutes of discourse, there was a werewolf named Joseph who wore dark sunglasses and a leather jacket, upstairs in George's study, and a blushing Blanche downstairs, making dinner, having made the exact same decision that George had made twice over that same afternoon. Joseph was a very polite individual, when of course, his sunglasses weren't constantly making blatant comments that no one wanted to hear, such as, "my, that woman is fat," or "goodness gracious, what an ugly baby." That kind of behaviour, even if coming from one's accessories is certainly very rude, although in all fairness, Joseph couldn't help it.

Peter and Jane, still very normal, despite the ever-waning normality of their parents, were due home at any minute. Peter walks slowly behind his sister, because it is normal for an eight year old little brother to kick dust into his older, ten year old sister's clean white socks, as much as he possibly can because she has already been very annoying in taking the lead.

Meanwhile, Thomas the potential ghost sits up in Peter's room, pushing Peter's toy cars around on the rug, while his now silent shoes sit still in the corner. Peter, tromping up the stairs, bursts into his room, and nearly collides with the potential ghost. Of course, he would have gone right through him, if he had, and although this would be painless for the potential ghost, Thomas would have been fairly uncomfortable, as any ghost would, at having someone fall through his head. Peter, on the other hand, would have probably hit the floor with a thud, except, he did not fall forward. Instead, he fell backwards, right on his backside, and stared.

"Hello," said Thomas.

"H-h-hell... hello," said Peter.

"Did you just say Hell?" asked Thomas.

"Not on purpose. Gee."

"Well, you must be more careful, certainly," warns Thomas.

"You look like a ghost," says Peter, as he stares through Thomas's midsection, at his toy chest.

"Good guess; I am a ghost."

"Really? What's your name?"

"Thomas, and yes, really. Your name is Peter, isn't it?"

"Yes! Do you get ESPN or something?" Peter asks, eyes wide.

"No. I read the sign on your door, plus, your father said I'd be staying in your room," said Thomas with a very wide grin. "I love toy cars."

"Do you obey traffic laws?" asked Peter, a little skeptically.

"Religiously."

Peter grins, and sets up a highway in his room, and for the first time, there are sounds of actual laughter coming from his room, as the occasional off-ramp collision occurs. Meanwhile, a potential vampire with green hair sits in the floor, brushing a doll's hair contemplatively, while her now silent cape hangs neatly in the closet behind some dusty old Easter dresses. Julia occasionally nods her head, and sings a few words of an old song. "Golly jeepers, where'd you get those peepers?" she sings, and just as she's moving into the second verse, Jane bursts into the room, and nearly falls right on top of Julia, which would have been very uncomfortable for both, because vampires are quite solid unlike ghosts, and this vampire had a very elaborate hairdo that she naturally did not want destroyed. Jane on the other hand, was quite startled, but managed, much like her brother of course, to fall onto her backside, rather than on Julia's mound of purple feather and green curls, and instead of staring, she began to talk, as ten year old girls do, and profusely.

"Oh, you look just like a vampire. Are you a vampire? Are you from England? Lots of English people have green hair, especially the ones in London, at least that's what this one girl at school says. Do you have any other parts that are green? Gosh, I hope not. That would be kind of gross. Do you like my doll? I don't, but don't say anything to anyone, because my mom thinks I like my dolls. I'm a bit old for them, don't you think? I like your dress. I wish I had green hair," Jane finally finishes, gasping a little, and sitting on the edge of her bed.

Julia looks up mildly, and suddenly begins speaking, much at the same pace as Jane, and amazingly so, because she could keep up, and continue to smoothly brush the doll's hair as well.

"Yes, I am a vampire, and thank you, I'm glad you could tell, I would so hate to be confused with a mummy, or a ghoul. Or even worse; a member of a sub-culture of some sort. No, I'm not from England or London, but I have heard they have adopted many different colors of hair than green, such as purple, and blue. I should hope none of my other parts are green, surely, but I do have a birth mark on the side of my nose, that looks a bit tanner than the rest of my face," Julia proceeds to point her finger at the small place that was a little darker than the rest of her skin, without bothering to pause in her speech, "I actually like your doll quite a bit, although she could use a new wardrobe, which might definitely bring back some of her likability to you, after all, all things considered, she has been a very good doll. She told me so. I don't think you're too old for dolls until you start to do your own taxes, which, I can't do yet, so it must mean I'm perfect for dolls. I like my dress too, and I'm certain we could give you green hair," Julia finishes just as mildly, without gasping, while Jane looks fairly impressed by her new friend's long-winded speech.

"As a matter of fact, do you use those old Easter dresses for anything besides catching dust?" asks Julia, standing up, and ducking to keep her pile of green hair from hitting the ceiling fan.

"Nope, not really," says Jane curiously, as she watches Jane go through the closet, and tug out four old Easter dresses.

"Well, this first one, we can use to make some new clothes for your dolls," says Julia, "and the other three, I can certainly repair, let out and down in a few places, and dye purple or green in a wink," and she really meant a wink, because it was in her ability to change the colors of things by winking, although, it was a fairly useless trick, since she was color-blind, and only the brightest of colors really made any difference to her.

From upstairs, sounds of giggling, laughing, hair-brushing and dress making, car crashes and boisterous boy talk came, drifting down the hallway, like music, and Blanche was light on her feet, while she and George talked of their day. Which was, quite a long talk of, full of incredulous, "No... really?!" type replies, smiles, and "Well, we'll see" type answers. When supper was finally ready, the table was quite full, although, only most had brought their own meals. Except the potential ghost, Thomas; he didn't eat. Julia had a tall glass of some blood, very viscous looking, and highly arterial, which she sipped from a purple curly straw. "I don't like the mustache you get from sipping it straight from the glass," she had said, in the kitchen while tending to her own dinner, "it's nothing against your dishes, Blanche." Joseph was eating a raw hamburger, and had brought his own groceries. "A good housemate, provides for himself, and if I don't present myself as a good housemate, then even after proving myself to be a werewolf, it would certainly be very intrusive for me to stay on, taking advantage of your hospitality, until forever and ever, amen, without so much as buying my own groceries," was the speech he had given Blanche, as he cleaned the pan which he had used for his hamburger. She was highly impressed, when he offered to set the table.

So crowded around the table were George and Blanche, taking extra pride in their appearances it seemed, for Blanche was wearing lipstick, and George had taken off his spectacles for the dinner occasion. Jane was wearing a purple and bright green dress to the table, and even sported a mix of purple and green hair, piled up on her head much like Julia's, while sitting next to her mother, who kept remarking on how lively and attractive purple and green looked in one's hair. Thomas and Peter sat along the other side, while Thomas talked to all of his travels, joking with Peter, who sported a continuous grin, and before he was scolded, had been sporting Thomas's old hat. Joseph sat nearby, grinning a wolfy grin, and telling stories of all the different motorcycle trips he'd been on.

Once dinner was over, as they had all agreed, the whole crowd found their seats in the living room, and demonstrations were to take place. Everyone sat on chairs and sofas, and parts of the rug, as it was Thomas's turn first, since he was first to show up. Thomas stood up, gave a little bow, and fidgeted nervously for a moment.

"Well," he said evenly, and then grinned, suddenly, "watch this!"

And he simply winked out, completely invisible. But, the piano in the corner tinkled out a tune, and then, played a song, a very familiar one, actually, while Thomas sang, "And if you break my heart, my achy breaky heart, it might blow up and kill this man, wooohooo!"

And then, he winked back into place before all of them, and made another short bow.

Everyone cheered, and applauded him; the girls, with green hair, and purple accoutrements, as well as Blanche, who was still enthraled by the new style, and George, who even whistled loudly. Joseph clapped on, and shouted 'Bravo!' as a gentleman at opera might. Then it was Julia's turn, who, with the help of Blanche, dragged in a large, full sized mirror. "Well, this is really kind of my cheapest trick," she said bashfully, and whispered nervously to Blanche, who agreed, and disappeared with George for a moment, leaving everyone puzzled. In a moment, the sliding mirror doors plus the full sized wardrobe mirror were set up against the wall.

"Well," she said evenly, and then grinned, suddenly, "watch this!"

And she began to shimmy, and dance, twirling around in circles, while her tape player began to belt out, from the table, "Come on, and rock me Amadeus!" The family's attention was directed to the lack of reflection in the mirrors. It was only the one dancing woman, not the four there should have been.

And then, she made another small bow, grinned, and shut off her tape player.

Everyone clapped, and hooted, especially Jane, and Blanche, who found New Wave style to be fabulously enthralling. George and Thomas cheered and whistled for Julia, who blushed, and twirled a little, while Joseph even dared to kiss her cheek, as he stood up for his turn.

"Well," he said evenly, and then grinned, suddenly, "watch this!"

Then promptly bent over, and put his backside out, in a very funny position, that made Blanche whisper quietly, "I certainly hope he doesn't have gas," with wide eyes. Suddenly, a big bushy tail sprung from the back of Joseph's trouser's, just as he leans up, "Arwroooooooooooo! Who's that walking around in these woods? Why it's Little Red Riding Hood..." he starts, wagging his tail as he sings, "Hey there, Little Red Riding Hood..."

When he finishes, he makes a bow, and turns around again. The tail has gone.

The room buzzes with noise, and cheers, whether it is because of the spectacle, or because of a blooming belief in the characters that have somehow landed in their now, not quite normal, bordering on the very strange, home, --no one is quite sure. Either way it is certainly a welcome change, and each evening is thoroughly enjoyed thereafter. The second night, Thomas, the more than potential ghost regaled them with his ability to walk through walls, and coffee tables, and various other pieces of furniture. Julia showed off her fangs, which were very sharp, and she explained, that in her younger years, she used to like Prince a great deal, so she'd had his symbol etched into the front of her fangs, in purple, of course. "Worse than a tattoo, and after Purple Rain... I just got sick of him," she sighs, as everyone nods with perfect understanding. Joseph took his sunglasses off, and showed off his canine eyes, and then turned off all the lights, to entice gasps, and little shrieks from the family, potential vampire and ghost, as his animal eyes glowed green and gold in the dark.

Over those three nights, the tree outside withered, and the leaves turned red and gold, then coated the lawn, which was now more shriveled and dead, than the bright, identical green of the neighbours' lawns. The dog barked at the noise, and paced around the yard, and then, on the second night, ran away, when he saw Joseph's eyes in the dark of the window. The family hardly noticed he was gone. The paint on the house peeled away, and gradually, the home became more spooky, and skeletal, though sounds of merriment were often heard from within.

On the third night, Thomas, the potential ghost went outside, and demonstrated how he could fly, swooshing, up along the street, and standing on the tops of streetlights, much to the delight of all those watching. Julia, the potential vampire, who had coaxed green and purple highlights into Blanche's hair, (George found the change very attractive), turned herself into a green and purple and black vampire bat, and flew around with Thomas, squeaking and turning pirouettes in midair. Joseph turned himself into a big wolf, and played frisbee in the yard with the kids, bounding around with his tongue out, and his sunglasses still attached to his head.

Once the final demonstration was over, everyone seemed to be in unanimous agreement that there was no doubt, that their guests were the genuine article. The one questioned remained, was why the ghost, vampire, and werewolf, had decided to leave wherever they had come from, to seek a residence there. Thomas told the story woefully, as some ghosts can manage to do.

"I was hanging around the railroad tracks where I had met my unfortunate demise, and singing some of the blues, on my own, not bothering anybody, when all of a sudden, my shoes started talking. And then, even worse, they started singing. Well, I figured the only way to shut them up, was to take them somewhere normal, and maybe, just maybe, the shock would knock them out. And ever since I've come through, those shoes haven't uttered so much as a chorus line of Willy Nelson's greatest hits album. Good thing too, because I like Willy, and was quickly starting to lose my taste for his songs, having to hear them come from an old pair of work boots," Thomas finished, and grinned.

Next, the family asked Julia why she had chosen to leave her home, to come to live at theirs, and she started in ever so dramatically, as vampires do tend to do when they tell stories.

"Well, it was all so sudden. I was flying around Manhattan, and all of a sudden, I got tangled up in this big cloud of smoke. It turns out, a store that sold nothing but books full of knock-knock jokes had caught fire. My wings, which happen to be my cape, as you know, were permanently stained with knock-knock joke smoke. And as much as I washed it, it would never shut up. So I figured, naturally, a house with some normality, but not too much, would shock it right out of my cape. And sure enough, ever since I've been here, I haven't heard one knock-knock joke. Lord knows, they are the worse kind of jokes, even worse than political jokes," said Julia with a shudder, as she finished, and sat beside Thomas. Next, the family turned to Joseph, who was next questioned about why he had chosen to come.

"Well," he started, "I usually prefer to remain mysterious, which is precisely the reason I had to get my sunglasses fixed. One night, I was at Ozzfest, and just as Trent Reznor was getting ready to start screaming into the microphone, my sunglasses, said 'Boooo!' loud as heck, and... well, a bunch of kids with blue and red hair chucked me over the fence. It was horrible," Joseph paused here to sniffle a little, then continue, "As you can see, I had to get this stopped, so I figured, if I came to a house where things were less rowdy, the sunglasses would be shocked into silence, and so far, I haven't heard so much as a comment about the carpet since I've been here," he looked at the indignant Blanche quickly, and color rose to his cheeks, "you have beautiful carpet ma'am," he said quickly, and gave a boyish grin that would melt butter.

The family exclaimed, George and Blanche commiserated about rudeness, and while Peter and Jane commiserated about boring, obnoxious jokes, and bad singing. The family gradually, slowly developed a plan. Never before had such a plan been developed, and soon, this plan would come to fruition. The kitchen was busy, and full of laughter, baking, good smells, and mayhem all night, between the girls in it. And the yard, was filled with hammering, hanging, taping, throwing, towing, all night, as the boys worked and laughed through their plans.

The next evening, Halloween night, as trick-or-treaters began to leave their homes in array of costumes, and colorful treat bags, kicking leaves, and scuffling shoes on the sidewalks, fussing mothers and babysitters... all came to a gradual halt in front of what was once a very normal house, and was now, the largest and most well-decorated Halloween house on the whole block, if not, in the entire neighbourhood. There was a pool for bobbing for apples, a woman who looked like a vampire, with a large pile of green curls sitting on her head, and then a young girl, and woman dressed the same. A strange man with a wolf's tail, and sunglasses reading fortunes in front of a crystal ball, and trays of all sort of cookies, brownies, and popcorn balls set up everywhere. A ghost was playing piano, completely see-through, and singing old country songs, surprisingly well, while a boy, dressed much the same, ran around wreaking havoc, while a man who must have been his father chased after him.

As they stared, George finally gave up the chase, and pounded a sign into the front lawn:

You should know, that a house is not haunted simply because a vampire, werewolf, and ghost live there. That is a gross, and popular assumption that is overly discriminative, and must be stamped out, as soon as possible, before some sort of legal consequence occurs.

The End.