The Witch Switch

 

It is fair to say there were two things the Robertsons cared about very deeply in life – bringing up their children in a moral, wholesome environment, and putting on the best damn Halloween party year in year out. Every October, they would transform their house outside and in into a grotto for all things sinister and spooky and open it up for the whole neighbourhood. They took extreme pride in crafting the perfect Halloween experience and their two kids, Julian and Tilly, were players to be cast in their production.

The key to their annual scare-a-thon was planning. They mapped out every detail months in advance to ensure nothing was overlooked and their home was ready for frightening the bejeezus out of the local kids. This year, however, their increasingly rebellious teenage daughter was about to throw a spanner in the works.

“Over my grave are you wearing that!” Tilly's Dad went beetroot red as she showed him her costume for the first time. This Halloween they had cast her as a creepy witch but largely left the kids to their own devices to prepare their outfits. A decision their dad was regretting merely hours before go time. “No daughter of mine is dressing like a...like a...” he spluttered, fumbling for the right words as he glared at the ensemble of hot-pants and stockings.

“...a whore?” Tilly rolled her eyes as her father's temperature rose a few degrees shy of steam coming out of his ears. “You said be a witch – not Mother Teresa...though the shop did have a pretty sexy nun costume too...” She trailed off. “Dad, come one, you need me to wear this. Who else is going to be your witch? Julian?”

And so it came to pass – their Dad decidedly less offended by the idea of their son dressing like a prostitute than their daughter. Julian, of course, had little choice in the matter – the Robertson's Halloween crushing all resistance in its path in the name of their annual scare-fest. And with their reputation to live up to, they decided if their son was indeed going to be a witch, they were going to do it properly. Their Mom spent the last couple of hours before they opened their doors doing his makeup and styling a wig she had from a previous Halloween where she dressed as a zombie Marilyn Munroe. Tilly watched on gleefully as she squeezed into her brother's toy soldier costume. She had wanted to wear the outfit to impress a guy from school but this was even better. Seeing her brother brought down a peg like this was worth a thousand Halloweens worth of candy.

“Remember,” Mr Robertson hissed as he prepared to open the house doors to the legions of trick or treaters. “Julian, when they come over to your side of the room grab their wrist as they reach for the candy and pretend like you are going to bite it. At the last moment, turn it over and kiss the back of their hand. Make sure you leave a blood red lipstick print. If you need topping up, ask Mom.” He nodded in a way that was almost military-like. “And I better not see you break character for your friends from school – it will totally ruin the experience for everyone...”