It was Halloween, and nothing scary was going on. Kids were coming to the door and leaving with lots of candy. Black cats were absent, although there was a ragged looking calico wandering around. No bats flew overhead. No wolves howled in the distance. No witches flew across the moon. Nothing. Not even a vampire. Nothing.
Well, there was one thing.
Eric’s hand had grown an extra finger.
“This is weird,” he thought to himself, “But, it isn’t scary.”
Eric took a sharp knife to the finger. It fell to the floor and rolled under the table.
Later, after the candy bowl was emptied and put away, Eric sat down to watch some television. Sitting in his chair, was the finger.
“How did you get there?” he asked, “You must have crawled there yourself. That’s weird. But, it isn’t scary.”
Eric moved the finger over and sat down.
Eric and the finger watched old reruns of “Night Gallery” and “Night Court” until around eleven-thirty.
“Most people don’t accept that ‘Night Court’ was a reworking of Serling’s treatment for a ‘Night Gallery’ revival,” he told the finger, “But, if you really pay attention to the pilot, it’s fairly obvious.”
He looked down, and the finger was gone.
“That’s weird,” he thought, “But, it isn’t scary.
Eric went to the toilet and as he was washing up, he noticed the finger sitting on his medicine shelf.
“How’d you get up there?” he wondered aloud, “You don’t belong up there.”
Eric picked up the finger and put it in his old turtle terrarium. The turtles were long gone, but he liked the little lagoon. The finger seemed fine.
Eric read the finger stories and sang it songs all night. The finger bobbed a little bit to “John Jacob Jingleheimer-Schmidt.” Eric tossed it some bread crumbs which it ate, although Eric wasn’t sure how.
“You’re my best friend,” Eric said.
“I love you,” the finger said.
It was the happiest Halloween.