DISCLAIMER: This h'ain't been beta read. This h'ain't 'Alloween no more. These h'ain't me characters. Screed h'is QUITE h'a character. Note-the-tations kin be sent ta LibRatsie@aol.com. This kin be archived by *MEL* at www.fkfanfic.com, h'at the Ratpacker's archives, h'an' h'at the FKFIC ftp site. H'all h'others jammy-jam wit' me 'bout h'it foirst. SCREED'S HALLOWEEN TREAT By Libby S. Singleton "Hey, Trace," Vachon said, setting aside his guitar as he stood. "Happy Halloween." He took one of the two paper sacks she was precariously balancing. "What's this junk?" "I've been doing some housecleaning and thought Screed might be able to trade or sell it at the swap meet," Tracy replied. "Just some clothes and other odds and ends." "Speaking of, Screed's running a little late. I asked him to pick up some movies on his way," Vachon sat his sack down on the floor before plopping down on the sofa across from his new VCR/television combination. "You're letting *him* pick the movie? Great, we'll either have to watch BEN or BABE." "What can I say? He's a sucker for rodents." Glancing down at the sack, an item caught his eye. "Hey, isn't this a police scanner?" "Yeah," Tracy said, sitting next to Vachon. "My father gave it to me when I entered the academy. Haven't turned it on since I graduated. Guess I hear enough with my job. I don't even know if it still works." "Let's find out. If it doesn't, Screed's pretty good with electronics." Vachon put the scanner on top of the television and plugged it in. After some tuning, it crackled to life. "...Bald, late 20s or 30s, after snatching the candy the juveniles said he seemed to disappear into thin air..." "Uh, oh," Vachon muttered. Tracy nodded. "Stealing a child's candy, how low can you get?" "...In the vicinity... Wearing cheap-looking vampire teeth and those new contacts which glow in the dark..." "That one's from the other side of town!" Tracy pointed out. "Probably just random incidents," Vachon said quickly. "...Near the city limits.... Victim said suspect has strong British accent and was babbling incoherently...." "British.... Babbling incoherently," Tracy said, sitting straight up. "Vachon, that's Screed, isn't it?" "Uhr, I suppose it could be." "That's terrible!" she cried. "Vam... You guys drink blood, I'll just have to deal with that. You've got to live ... I mean survive, after all. But stealing candy from CHILDREN? How low can you get. You know, Screed's not getting any of this stuff. I'll donate it to a charity that *deserves* it. Here I was, trying to help *your* friend out a bit...." "'Oneys, Oi'm 'ome-a-lone. "Got some nice movin' pictures wot ta put h'our peepers h'on," Screed cried, entering the church's basement. Plastic sacks protruded from his worn military jacket, and he carried a plastic pumpkin full to the brim with candy. "'Ey, Baby Jane! A sweet fer the sweet?" "Don't you Baby Jane me!" Tracy said, jumping out of her chair to practically ram her index finger into Screed's face. "You... you... you... CREEP!" "Trace...." Vachon said warningly, gripping her shoulders to pull her back a few steps. "You stay out of this!" Tracy snapped. "As for you," she directed at Screed, "how could you take candy from the hands of babes? What in the world would you want with it? Candy can't bring much at the swap meet!" Screed blinked a few times, his eyes taking on a puppy dog look (albeit a rabid puppy dog). "H'its 'Allow-eve, roight? Time fer turnin' tricks an' gettin' a few treats. Ol' Screed jest wants to get h'inta the spear-h'it. Tricks by scarin' the bodily liquids h'out o' a few kids, give their 'earts a thumpin' wot ta tell their grandkidlin's about while gettin' me a few treats h'in trade." "But you can't eat candy!" Tracy pointed out, then adding softer, "Can you?" "'Course na," Screed said. "But the squeakers kin!" Reaching into the pumpkin head, candy falling out over the edges, the carouche pulled out a rather plump gray rat hungrily munching on a Tootsie Roll