“Last house guys!” someone yells as we pile out of our cars.

“Who's got the toilet paper?” 

“I don’t have toilet paper but I have a toilet!”

My friends and I have spent the last few hours teepeeing the teachers and administrators' homes. We had coated the houses in layers upon layers of toilet paper, saran wrapped their cars, and hung tampons from their trees. This though was the most important house, our principal’s. 

Our principal, Mr. Bauer, lives on the outskirts of town in a cozy little home surrounded on one side by a cornfield and the other, a forest. 

“Alright everyone, last house. You know the drill.” our unofficial leader, Abby Ortiz, says.

A small group of people run over to me, bags of saran wrap in their hands. 

“Alright everyone, we need to do this as quietly and as efficiently as we can. No mistakes like what happened at Mrs. Pineda’s house, Antonio.” I say snidely, “Let's get walking.”

Mr. Bauer has a long driveway, a loooooong driveway. It takes us about five minutes to get halfway up, and when I say up I mean 'up' a very steep hill. I feel bad for the group carrying the toilet. 

“Did you guys hear that?” Georgie Heath, a quiet little brainiac, says. We all stop to listen, nothing but silence.

“It must have been a deer or something.” 

We continue walking at a good pace until the house comes into view. Since then it has been quite clear that what we heard was not a deer. Crashing and snapping ensued on each side of us. Turning around was impossible because right behind us were two masked men holding roaring chainsaws. 

“Run!” Abby screams.

Everyone drops what they have in their hands and scatters. More monsters emerge from the woods. Witches, zombies, demons, among other grotesque and gory creatures, chase us around Mr. Bauer’s property. 

I sprint to my car, a malicious looking clown with a knife running after me. 

“Get back here!” it cackles, “I’ve got a very fun surprise for you.”

“Get back here.” Mrs. Roth yells after I had walked out of class, “What do you think you're doing?”

After that supernatural night, I’d been very suspicious of the teachers. Mr. Bantam started to look a lot like one of those chainsaw-wielding maniacs and Mrs. Morrow looks exactly like one of those warty witches. Now I was certain of what I had been suspecting.

“It was you wasn’t it?” I inquire.

“What are you talking about?” Mrs. Roth snaps.

“It was you and the rest of the teachers at Mr. Bauer’s house that night.”

She smiles slyly, “You’ve got to be clowning me.”