2019-10-16 - 418: I'm A Teapot

There is one nice thing about Safeway at about 3:30am on a Wednesday, and that's the fact that it's virtually empty.

Okay, there are two nice things about Safeway at 3:30am on a Wednesday: it's also still willing to sell you bananas and bacon and pop-tarts and stuff, and all of these are currently also benefits by Aidan's way of thinking.

This particular 3:30am at a Wednesday also has the benefit of all the nearly-Hallowe'en displays of tiny mixed candy and cheap plasticky costumes and pumpkin-flavoured whatevers, which is not quite as good as the one that comes after Hallowe'en when everything's half-off, but it's still pretty good.

That first nice thing means that no one immediately complains when Aidan rides the back of the cart that contains various items from the second nice thing down one of the aisles toward Baylee, making the nylon vampire cape and skinny tinsel-threaded boa from nice-thing-three trail out behind him in his wake. None of them have anything to do with the sheer luck that keeps him from running directly into the display of kitchsy yard decor that juts almost halfway out into the lane. A plastic skeletal hand coming out of a cauldron of green-whatever catches the boa as he passes, earning a startled "Hey!" from him as the scarf-wrapped marabou tightens around his throat.

He drops to his feet, one hand still on the handlebar to stop the cart, the other tugging to loosen the boa back up as he gives the display a baleful glance. "Bay, I think that skeleton just tried to choke me."

"I don't think that skeleton was trying."

Honestly, that skeleton really could have been trying to kill him. That's sort of how things roll in this town, right? Baylee moves in the direction of his voice, holding two paper skeletons in her hands, the sort with the articulated arms and legs. One is a pirate skeleton, one is a witch, "Which one of these do you think would look great on the front door?" There is a clear preference happening here, but Baylee doesn't do much more than give the pirate one a slightly more obvious shake.

Aidan gives the skeleton-hand a don't-think-I-don't-see-you kind of squint, taking a moment to resettle the boa -- this time, not looped around his throat, just hanging at either side. Never let it be said he never learns.

"I dunno," he says dubiously, but turns his attention back to her, head tilting as he looks at the choices. "They'd both look pretty good. I dunno if I trust skeletons right now." Still... "I mean, pirate, though. I think I gotta vote pirate anyway." The articulated paper gets considered a moment longer. "We should get one and put it in a hula skirt and dangle it on a shaky spring or something."

"In front of the door?" Baylee glances between the skeletons, then she moves to put the pirate into the basket, and the other gets tossed back towards the shelf where she found it. Of course, she doesn't hang it up, which means that she's just making a mess of things, really.

The boa gets caught with her hand, sliding her fingers down the feathery length of it before she steps towards him, leaning in to press a quick kiss against his lips before she lowers her voice so that she can murmur to him, "Baby....if that evil skeleton really hurts you, I'll take him out and curb stomp him for you."

"Maybe, or inside the trailer, OR! Maybe under the carport?" Aidan pauses, considering how much room is left in there after the van's parked there, and amends, "Okay, maybe on the porch." He is not such a good citizen as to fix the positioning of the discarded witch; it is no longer his problem, if indeed it ever was. Particularly not when he has kisses to think about instead.

The small smile that met the toying with the boa returns and broadens into a grin at her murmur, and he slides an arm around Baylee to give her a squeeze. "My hero. That skeleton won't know what hit it. Well. Stomped it. Except it probably will, 'cause I'm pretty sure you'd make sure." He steals a quick little kiss back. "Oh! But curb-stomping reminds me, we should get pumpkins!"

"So that someone can come by and throw them?" Because, stomping. Baylee leans herself against the cart, smiling at him with a ridiculous expression on her face for the moment, "I really, truly think that if we get pumpkins we need to get those fake tea light candles, so if they do throw them at the trailer they don't light us on fire."

Only Aidan is allowed to light Aidan's trailer on fire.

"Plus candy, we need a whole lot of candy, baby. Tons of it, so that we can be the hottest trailer for Halloween for the next decade. Full sized candy bars, yeah?" Baylee glances around like the candy is just sitting there waiting.

If Aidan's trailer is gonna get burnt down that is definitely Aidan's prerogative, yeah, so though he looks initially a bit less than sold on candles that don't come with actual fire, her logic wins through in the end. "Okay. Fake candles," he allows, "for that, anyway. And definitely the full-sized candy bars, those were the best. Plus, I mean, if people don't get them all then we eat 'em, so, win-win, right?" Best. Holiday.

A glance around shows that though there's a bin of bags of mixed 'mini' and 'fun size' candy infringing on the other end of the aisle, the genuinely fun sized candy is the next aisle over. Aidan grabs Baylee's hand with one of his and the cart with the other, resulting in the latter wavering awkwardly as he pushes it down to the end of the aisle. It's not as much fun as riding the cart, but hey, he gets to hold Baylee's hand, so that pretty much makes up for it, even if he has to fleetingly apologise to a display of those 'safety' pumpkin carving knives that never work right when the cart clips it along the way.

The endcap is covered in piles and piles of those various bags of mixed (tiny) candy and plastic candy-gathering buckets, all arrayed around a big awkward-looking plastic figure like a pumpkin-headed ersatz Jack Skellington and what looks like might happen if Oogie Boogie got given a makeover to be more popular with 6 year old girls, put together out of those bags of pink and pastel blue cotton candy. Just past that, their goal: the full-sized candy aisle. Aidan is Driven and Focused and does not in any way notice the way some of those end-cap bags seem to shift and rustle as they pass. Maybe they just aren't balanced quite right and their passage is throwing things off!

Though granted, that wouldn't explain the definite impression Baylee has that the heads of those things weren't looking this direction before.

"Aidan..."

It's weird, but weird happens, right? Baylee sounds a little uncertain about if she should or should not be noticing these things, because usually....well, she's stone cold sober. Noticing this stuff while stone cold sober is still something that isn't comfortable. It's a lot easier to ignore things when drugged, after all.

But she digs in her heels as they wheel past, and she stares at the end cap with it's weird little things. Weird bags, weird heads, all those kinds of things that just are.... off.

It's Gray Harbor. Weird happens a lot. Aidan does not appear to have noticed this particular weird, though it's difficult to be entirely sure. His weird threshold is not always tuned at the same spot as everyone else's, depending on the day and the kind of weird. And, to be fair, there's an entire aisle of properly sized candy of every description right in front of them!

On the other hand, there's things it takes more than that to classify as Not Weird, and the two figures staring at them starting to stand up? Yeah. That qualifies as 'more'. Skellingtonesque takes a while to stand, slow-moving and seeming to unfold for longer than it could possibly actually take, until eventually his shoulders and head press stooped against the ceiling, arms and legs too long and too thin. Cotton Boogie moves faster, plastic bags rustling against each other over and over as it turns and extracts itself from the display, beginning to stalk after them. The bag on the head is gone, cotton candy fluffed around and flowing back like a cartoon of hair in a wind tunnel. This, particularly with Baylee's attempt to get his attention Aidan catches sight of, and yelps. "That's," he starts, and then addresses the pair of them instead. "Hey! Uh. Nice night for it? We're just getting some stuff, didn't mean to bother you. Sorry 'bout that." It never works. It never works. Surely someday he'll stop trying it. Skellingtoneqsue shoves a hand into one of those buckets, coming up with a boney hand full of candy which is, indeed, just... off.

"You like candy, too?" Because that is clearly why they've woken up, right? Candy. Baylee really likes candy, as well. But she's not at all sure how she feels about the situation, and that curious indecision is clear on her face.

1) They just, so far, seem to be after the candy.
2) What kind of harm could these creatures do?
3) Well....who knows about what three is, but there probably is a three.

"The other aisle has the good candy, the full bars. Those are primo."

Hey, who doesn't like candy? Surely that's what's got their attention. And surely it's the fact that everyone knows the full bars are indeed primo, and the others pale imitations, that has Skellington drawing back that long, thin arm, which in movement seems just wrong, as though the bones are moving through parts of space they ought't be, and hurling that handful of candies.

Surely it's a coincidence it happens to be in their direction.

Surely he couldn't have known that anywhere they hit, they'd explode.

Wafer candiess and butterscotch disks and red-hot jawbreakers and not-quite-Jolly-Ranchers rain down around them, peppering the ground near their feet like bullets from a cowboy who's just asked someone to dance. Most of them hit harmlessly, at least to the pair of them -- a few create little gouges in the floor, however, one bounces off the edge of the cart to fly into the display of Snickers nearby, and one hits Aidan on the shoulder. He yelps and shies away as it explodes, the spark immediately setting the flimsy nylon cape to smoulder. Another hits Baylee squarely in the thigh of her jeans, which are at least somewhat less immediately flammable. It still hurts.

Thrown candy is usually not a threat, usually. But for some reason, now? Sweet fuck all the exploding candy is loud, obnoxious, and it hurts. Even through the jeans it hurts.

"Oi!" Baylee exclaims when the candy starts exploding everywhere, the cart that they'd been holding onto is grabbed, despite the fact that it might just be the worst place to put her hands if there is a second explosion of candy, and she swings the cart around, trying to shove it in the direction of dear old Jack, "You get back in your box!"

Skeletons live in boxes, right?!

Yes! Okay, usually they're called coffins, and 'live' is... hopefully... not entirely accurate, but it's a box and it's more or less home, right? Pumpkinheaded Jack's carved smile seems to widen just a touch as the candy hits home, already scooping another handful from the buckets, and Cotton Boogie throws back her(?) head for a laugh, the sound surprisingly rich and yet underlaid with menace. She continues her rustling stride toward them, unhurried, at least until Baylee shoves that cart.

She makes a startled but deft hop to the side to barely avoid it, turning to look after it in time to see it hit more or less its intended mark -- not a full on hit, not with the inevitable sticky shopping cart wheel, but it pulls precisely enough to the side to hit Skellington's leg, instead. The cart smacks into the bone with a sound like whacking a candy cane against the wall, a sharp crumbly sort of crack, and that long skinny leg from around the knee down goes with the cart as it continues its momentum, the unripped pant-leg tangling in the grating. There's a high-pitched sound of distress from the pumpkin head as he's dragged half-prone, and the next volley of candy isn't particularly well-aimed, landing mostly in among the shelves. Chocolate bits spray across the aisle in the explosions, and wrappers begin to burn.

Aidan, speaking of burning, has gotten that cape unfastened and attempts a two-for-one by throwing the fabric and its fire at Cotton Boogie, which would arguably have been pretty clever if there were anything at all aerodynamic about that cape without the assistance of wind. It falls to the ground a couple feet in front of him and melts there sadly. He blinks at it once before the cry of angry from the still-standing candy-monster gets his attention to her again; her outer bags are beginning to pop off as she lumbers toward them again, this time with more intent, and the cotton candy of her limbs and torso seems to writhe as she goes. Why becomes clear within a few steps, as a weirdly long gummy worm pokes its head from the floss of her hip and winds its way through the sugar, up to and around her neck. Others are visible in her limbs, or wriggling through her torso.

"Score!" Baylee is not quiet at all when the cart hits the pumpkinheaded explosives throwing Skellington's leg and he gets dragged by that pant leg. She's not quiet about it at all, in fact. If there were the risk of anyone around them hearing, she might still be as loud as she is, but she's sober. So she's almost, almost certain that she's not actually tripping, so is almost certain that this is a Dream.

A really fucked up one that might just ruin Halloween forever. (Probably not)

As soon as Aidan is free of the cape she's grabbing him, starting to pull him with her, and try to shove him behind her at the same time. When only one of them is capable of healing potential sugar burns and exploded limbs, well, you protect them with your life. Which then reminds her, and while she's taking a step back, those little worms starting to crawl free, she laughs, "Burn her!"

Skellington makes another distressed noise, and there's a scratching noise from the next aisle, where his torso is now leaning. Once un-caped, Aidan has about enough time to properly register that Baylee's gambit took him down and to remark an enthusiastic, "Nice!" before he finds himself being grabbed -- which, okay, usually when it's her he's not going to complain, but it also doesn't usually have him getting shoved behind her, either, so there's the start of a "Hey--" albeit not a very vehement one.

The exhortation to burn Cotton Boogie -- well, that is a 100% logical idea. Could not be more up Aidan's alley if it ducked between the houses. So it's weird that he hesitates a moment, a moment in which the cotton-candy-creature continues to approach, growling. Whatever has hold of him, he shakes it off at that, shoulders squaring as he takes a deep breath and-- glares. It works, and well; the monster bursts into flame along her limbs and over her 'hair', the worms diving back within the floss as she shrieks, as though it might protect them. It won't for long; sugar melts, candy floss even faster, and the flames dance quickly over each inch of surface they can find. It tightens and shrinks as it melts and caramelizes, giving off a low hiss.

A sound from the other aisle rises at the shriek, indignant and furious, and a secondary noise which is hard to fully identify, but seems to mean something to Aidan. "Shit," he says, eyes widening, and grabs Baylee's hand. "Run!" He starts toward the far end of the aisle, which seems a remarkably long way off, suddenly. And Dream or not, this is a lot of fire for a Safeway candy aisle: there's her, and there's the candy along the shelves that the explosives caught, which is now catching all its friends. It's the latest trend!

Sugar burns, and sugar burns fucking hurt. But sugar burns pretty. Which means that despite it all Baylee is actually distracted by what is happening to the Cotton Boogie, laughing the laugh of the giddily crazy. (It's part of what he loves about her, right?)

But then there is shrieking, and Aidan is grabbing her, and there is a whole lot of things that happen all at the same time. There is a stumble when Aidan starts away, "But..." Then she turns, starting to run after him with a disappointed sound, "But the candy bars...and the pumpkins.."

It's totally part of what Aidan loves about her, and he's the last person to disagree that sugar burns pretty, too. He's also very much on board with the candy bars and pumpkins plan, but nonetheless the only reply to the protest is "Runrunrun!" and he's not letting go of her hand.

That shriek comes again, and this time it echoes from what seems like everywhere, moments before the candy rain begins to fall again. More of it, now, and like the shriek it seems to come from where they left most of Jack and from both sides as well, the sweets arcing into the aisle and exploding against the shelves, the floor, the abandoned cart-- and Cotton Boogie. The sound she's making has shifted to a sort of furious pained yowl, and she starts pelting up the aisle behind them; her sugar burns and bubbles and boils with tiny popping sounds that are replaced by much larger ones as the thrown candy begins to explode, and then an absolutely huge one as she, herself, detonates, throwing half-melted massive gummy worms all over and sending her molten essence roiling down the flaming aisle toward them.

There's far more of it than there should be, than there could be, gaining on them and seeming whipped up by the burning chocolate on the shelves. It rises like a tsunami, and as they near the end of the aisle it becomes clear their options are few. The opening at either side is smaller than it ought to be, and at one, Skellington or something remarkably like him -- hard to tell the state of legs from where they are -- is approaching with murder in his pumpkin eye. At the other, a flock of plastic witches awkwardly riding green plastic pushbrooms and in one case a mop are approachings, fingertips sparking with either magic or electricity. And before them is a freezer case. Behind its doors lies perfectly innocent-looking ice cream, subtly but strangely distant, as the heat of the approaching sugar rush gets near enough to radiate against their backs.

"Shit!" Baylee exclaims, and she looks like she might fight against this directive to run, to escape everything and just abandon the pumpkins and candy. But the burning mass of boiling and bubbling sugar at their back is honestly no joke, and as hot as it is to watch Aidan burn the fuck out of things, being accidentally caught on fire in the process, or intentionally caught on fire by others, is not as hot and not worth the risk of sticking around for candy.

So she runs, and runs. One important thing is to get away, but the other important thing is to make sure that Aidan gets away with her, and she keeps ahold of his hand as she runs. "Aidan! The ice cream!" Maybe the secret is to run towards 'Christmas'.

Look, this is not the time for-- oh wait no, this is totally the time for ice cream, though Aidan very clearly looks confused when he first hears it. The ice cream itself gets a fairly blank look before the various options at either side sink in, and his eyes widen a little. "OH," he says -- possibly it doesn't hurt that she's adding her own intentions to the running at this point -- and he reaches out one long arm to grab the handle of the freezer and throw it open, diving in and pulling her along. No handle on the inside of the door,but it swings itself shut behind them.

There's just enough room between them and the door, so it's a good thing they're slender. Even so, it seems like more room than there ought to be between doors and shelves (which do indeed hold many pints of deliciously flavoured ice cream), but Aidan at the least is not inclined to question it right now. Not when a wave of molten sugar and half-melted gummy worms is cresting right against the other side of the glass. The heat's palpable from where they end up, but it seems like the door's enough to protect them. Aidan stares at it for a moment, squished into that little space with his arms automatically wrapped around Baylee. "...okay, that would've sucked. We're gonna... have to find some other pumpkins."

Once inside it doesn't seem to matter to her if they are crammed in, she is happy to attempt to occupy the same space as he is, leaning into him before she shifts one foot over to press her toes against the bottom corner of the door. Just to be certain that there is nothing that is about to come through it. Even if the door on its own does seem like it is keeping them safe from the molten sugar monster.

"I'm thinking that we can just skip the pumpkins." She glances around them, eyes sliding across the pints of ice cream that are on the shelves they are crammed up against, "Unless there is pumpkin ice cream?" Which is not at all the same, at that. But who cares, she doesn't. "So...how are we going to get out of here? Not sure we can stay in here forever."

Aidan twists a little to poke at the ice cream consideringly with one hand. "I don't think we can carve ice cream," he says, "though, it does kind of sound tasty? Except I feel like you'd have to eat it with vanilla pie. And I'm not sure if that exists." And no, they can't stay there forever. Okay, they wouldn't starve for a while, but it's a freezer. It's cold!

He glances over his shoulder toward the door, which remains warm, but so far, the molten sugar lake isn't melting through, and the others haven't quite sorted out how to get to them. It's a minute or three of chilly reprieve. "...I don't know," he admits, "It's gotta cool down eventually, right? Or maybe we can... throw a lot of ice cream into it?" Not without opening or breaking through the door, Aidan. "Or maybe we can like... crawl through the freezers and get out behind them all?"

The ice cream and the state of things outside the freezer doors have him a little distracted. Baylee, on the other hand, catches sight of something a little bit... off, as her eyes slide across the pints. A sort of shimmer, between and behind some of them, stronger toward the bottom of the shelving.