When Miss Sopine opened her front door to greet the trick-or-treaters, she took one look at the costumed group and exclaimed, “My, what a creative bunch you are! Your alien costumes look so real!”
As the neighborhood seamstress, Miss Sopine fancied herself a young Martha Stewart, and though she wouldn’t admit it aloud, she was a tad envious of the master expert who custom-designed and crafted the scaly latex suits on the group before her.
“Did you order them online?” she asked. “Etsy?”
The short alien at the forefront of the group turned to his taller brother, who shrugged blankly and shook his head.
“Well, if someone local made your outfits, I want a name,” Miss Sopine insisted, holding the bowl of candy to her chest as she waited for an answer.
The aliens glanced at each other. The tallest one, also the most impatient of the group, stepped forward and pointed his long, sharp finger at Miss Sopine.
“Young man, don’t play games with me. You and I know very well that I didn’t sew your costumes -”
The alien hissed and opened his mouth to reveal two rows of jagged teeth and three slithering pink tongues.
Miss Sopine’s eyes bulged as she leaped back with fright. The entire group now advanced upon her, pushing her into the foyer, where she dropped the bowl of candy and yelped as mini chocolate bars scattered across the hardwood floor. As the final alien crossed her threshold, it quietly closed the front door, cutting off the squealing voices of small children singing “trick or treat” at the neighbor’s house across the street and leaving poor Miss Sopine alone with the family of hungry extraterrestrials, who were looking for a snack to eat…