Choose Your Own Adventure: The Halloween Invitation

The Halloween Invitation

Your best friend invites you to a big Halloween party they are throwing at the end of October. You check your calendar. Yup, still August. You're half way to texting them back calling them an “Ultra Virgo Planner” when your girlfriend leans over your shoulder and reads the text exchange.

"Oh, they're smart to let us know early. Now we have time to prepare," she says, taking your phone out of your hand.

You get up from the couch and follow her into the kitchen.

If you take your phone back, turn to page 2.

If you thank her for always being there even if you don't know you need her, turn to page 7.

If you turn to the human-sized bat hanging in the shadows of the kitchen's corner and begin speaking in your secret language of clicks and hisses, turn to page 13.

Page 2

"I think your phone's on the charger," you say, grabbing your phone back. "It's way too early to be thinking about Halloween."

"Not according to Michael's and every retail store out there. Halloween's already starting. Soon, Mariah Carey will be here with Christm—"

"Don't you dare say it."

For what little it is worth, she does not say 'Christmas.' Instead, she breaks into a gleeful dance and song of Baby It's Cold Outside, improvising the worst parts of the song with somehow even worse parts.

If you leave the room to text your friend back, turn to page 3.

If you listen to her song and try not to get distracted by the bat joining in, turn to page 8.

If you tell the bat in the kitchen corner that you think it is time to do THE PLAN, turn to page 13.

Page 3

Back on the couch, phone in hand and a quippy, but late, response ready to send, you can barely hear your partner. You wish you could say the same for the human-sized bat that lives in your house, rent-free. It cannot sing, and you tried to explain melody to it once, but you got nothing but bit.

You ignore them the best you can, typing back:

it's too early for this

but bet we'll be the best dressed in the house

It’s not your best textual work, but it’ll do. Then, the parade of Christmas cheer comes marching into the room. Your girlfriend is jazz handing to Santa Baby and the bat is … the bat is, you think, trying to do the same but is simply trembling and screeching with large white eyes. You hate its eyes.

Once they sing the final note of the song, they wait patiently for you to applaud. You do not applaud. The bat begins to chatter in clicks and hisses at your girlfriend. Your girlfriend responds in plain English.

“I have tried to tell them this. Planning for a costume now is what true Halloween heads do,” she says to the bat as if you aren't there.

The bat hisses.

“I know, I know,” your girlfriend says. “Only lame-os wait till October to scramble for a costume.”

If you aren’t a lame-o, turn to page 5.

If you are a bit of a lame-o, give your girlfriend back your phone and turn to page 8.

If you want to hear more of what the bat has to say, turn to page 13.

Page 5

“I’m not a lame-o,” you say, feeling like a lame-o just saying it, and you aren’t even sure what a lame-o is.

The bat and your girlfriend look at you as if they don’t believe you.

“I do have an idea for a costume, and it’s still too early,” you say, totally not lying.

Your girlfriend asks, “What’s the costume? We’re going together, right?” A small bit of panic creeps into her voice, and the hair on the bat raises tall.

“Unless a meteor crashes to the Earth, we’re going together.”

The bat clicks, annoyed.

“It wants to know what the idea is. It doesn’t think you have one.”

You’ve had about enough of this bat.

“Well, I do know, and I’m not gonna spoil the surprise. We’re going to be the best dressed in the whole place. Like, totally original and unique. Not like the last Halloween when we were the 4th zombie Westley and Princess Buttercup there.” You feel the annoyance build again at how many times you grabbed the wrong decrepit Westley’s hand that night.

The bat and your girlfriend turn away from you and whisper together in the corner. You’re half-tempted to just go over there and butt in. You pay rent here and not the bat, though it does keep the place pest free and is the only one who likes cleaning out the garbage disposal.

They turn back toward you.

“It thinks you should let us help,” your girlfriend says.

If you let the bat help plan your Halloween costume, turn to page 13.

If you let your girlfriend plan your Halloween costume, turn to page 7.

If you are set in your plan, turn to the Halloween party.

Page 7

Your girlfriend sits at the kitchen table in the shadow of the human-sized bat living in your house. It is reading the text exchange now and chattering at the both of you. You can understand it, though you pretend like you don’t so that your girlfriend doesn’t get jealous of the connection you and the bat have. But it's really been there for you over the last few months while your girlfriend has gotten her promotion and spent more time at work. You even have a weekly lunch date with the bat that your girlfriend doesn’t know about, but it isn’t like a date date, just like a friend date that puts baby bats in your belly each time you two go to watch the mosquitoes hatch at the pond.

“What are you doing?” your girlfriend says as she catches you and the bat staring into each other’s eyes. Your small brown ones and its large glowing white ones. “Seriously, are you okay?”

You snap out of the bat’s mesmerizing gaze and chuckle.

If everything is totally fine and you want to hear what your girlfriend wants to do for Halloween, turn to page 8.

If you want to change the subject by grabbing your phone and leaving the room, turn to page 3.

If you’re ready to talk about what’s been going on between you and the bat, turn to page 13.

Page 8

You go to sit down at the kitchen table with your girlfriend and avoid the bat’s eyes. “Nothing. Nevermind. Everything is great. What are you thinking about doing for Halloween? You always have such good ideas! Like that time we went as zombie Westley and Princess Buttercup. Classic!”

Your girlfriend’s eyes glaze over remembering the night just a few short months ago. “This year will be better,” she says as she continues staring into the nothing.

You glance at the bat. It’s still watching you, and you motion for it to stop while your girlfriend goes back to texting on your phone. She lets out a little laugh and leans forward, getting more into the conversation.

“What? Did Jeanie say something funny?”

“Oh, God, no, never,” she says. “I stopped talking to Jeanie like 5 minutes ago. I’m seeing if Marcus still has that ruffled shirt you lent him for his Prince tribute party. I have the perfect idea, but I need to make sure we can pull it off. I mean, I know I can. I have the right bone structure for it, but you’ll at least need a wig and a couple pieces we may have to buy.”

You know very well that the ruffle shirt is sitting right now in the bottom of your underwear drawer because you HATE the way it looks on you and how often your girlfriend tends to find reasons to get you in it.

“Hmm, Marcus says he gave it back to you weeks ago,” your girlfriend says, looking at you over the edge of your phone.

If you want to tell your girlfriend you do actually have that ruffle shirt you've been saying Marcus has because you hate how it makes your collarbone look, turn to page 10.

If you want to be honest and tell your girlfriend that you hate the ruffle shirt and wish you could burn it in an effigy on your lawn, turn to page 14.

If you see the bat’s subtle wing flaps to get your attention, turn to page 13.

Page 10

“That’s right,” you say, overly surprised. “I do have that shirt. I somehow totally forgot about it.”

Your girlfriend and the bat exchange glances. “Suuuurrreee.”

You roll your eyes and lean toward your girlfriend to see what she’s doing on your phone. She’s redownloaded the Prime app and is adding spandex pants to the cart.

“What are you doing?” you say, heat rising in your face.

The bat beats its wings against its long black body.

“What I said I was doing,” your girlfriend answers, not taking her eyes off your phone’s screen. “I’m buying pieces for your costume.”

“On Amazon?”

“It’s the best and fast?” She looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. And it's a bat’s head.

“It’s rapidly eroding the fabric of our society?”

The bat and your girlfriend chortle. You didn’t even know bats could chortle.

“What society, babe? We’ve been burning into the sea since 2020. RIP Society. Hey, maybe we should go as a mask and hand sanitizer? That’d be retro.”

For a moment, you can tell that your girlfriend is truly considering this as an option. But she continues shopping for pieces to an outfit that doesn’t make sense to you.

“Can’t you get this stuff off like … I don’t know somewhere better? Like Spirit Halloween! Isn’t that the Halloween store?”

“They’ll take too long and probably don’t even have half the stuff we need. Amazon really is the best option. Trust me. You trust me, right?”

If you want to know what the bat thinks, go to page 13.

If you don’t trust your girlfriend or Amazon, take your phone back and turn to page 3.

If you trust your girlfriend and Amazon, go to the Halloween party.

If Halloween night comes and you hate the ruffle shirt, go to the Halloween party wearing the costume you convince your girlfriend to go as with what you and her can throw together from your closet.

Page 13

You begin your secret language of hisses and clicks as your girlfriend does what she always does and ignores the two of you. The bat tiptoes out of the corner, which you’ll never get used to seeing—a bat taller than you moving slow and ginger on its five-inch feet.

You tell the bat, I’m sick of this. I just don’t know what I can do anymore to show her that I am a fully actualized human who does not like it when my phone is taken out of my hand right as I’m using it. Like what does she think, I can’t text back? My hands worked fine enough last night.

The bat hisses at you to grow up.

You hiss back, Sorry.

The bat clicks, It’s time for us to do THE PLAN. There is no better time than now. You are actualized. You are phoneless. You are with me, and I am alight with the glory of love.

If you follow the bat’s lead and glory of love, turn to page 15.

If you feel like the bat is moving too fast and needs to chill and want to see what your girlfriend thinks you should do, turn to page 8.

If you feel like you want to be your own fully actualized person without the help of your girlfriend or the bat, turn to page 3.

Page 14

“Listen, babe,” you start. “I have to come clean about something.”

The bat chirps and hisses at you to shut up. You ignore it.

“I hate that shirt,” you say and brace for her response.

She shrugs. “I know.”

“What?”

“Of course you hate it. You look terrible in it. It’d be concerning if you liked it.”

The bat clicks its tongue, agreeing.

You blink at your girlfriend, thoroughly confused. “Then why do you want me to wear it?”

She scoffs like you don’t get it—and she’s right. You don’t get it. “Halloween isn’t about being comfortable. It’s about doing the silly uncomfortable thing for a night of laughs and showmanship. So, you’ll wear it.”

If you've had enough and take your phone back, turn to page 3.

If you're totally fine being uncomfortable and doing what your girlfriend wants, turn to page 10.

If you want to hear what the bat has to say, turn to page 13.

Page 15

The bat stretches out its wings to the boundaries of the whole room, blocking out the sun outside and casting you into its shadow.

It hisses loudly, Then we must act now.

Its eyes are glowing bright beams directing you toward the kitchen where your girlfriend disappeared. As if floating on a cloud made of the glory of love, something you thought died back in middle school, you enter the kitchen and plop down next to your girlfriend.

You can tell she’s still texting or doing something on your phone, but you don’t care. You’re with the bat now. The bat knows best.

“We need to talk,” you say to your girlfriend who doesn’t look up as she mumbles what sounds like sure.

The bat clicks, Actualize your want. Justify your needs. Take hold of the life you want now before the shackles of capitalism and heteronormativity choke it out of you and leave you a cold corpse in your wedding gown.

You know it's right. It's always right. You hiss back, As you wish.

Slamming your fists down on the table and screeching just like the bat taught you, you announce to every living creature in the house, “I want to talk.”

Luckily, the only creatures that respond are your girlfriend and the bat.

Your girlfriend looks startled, a tad concerned. “Babe, you feeling alright?"

“I’m feeling perfectly batty.” You laugh too loud and stop too quickly. “It is time we stop this terrible charade we call love and call it what it is: a conveyor belt to the death bed.”

Your girlfriend's face contorts. “What?!”

The bat comes closer to you and your girlfriend at the table. It begins to close its wings around the both of you.

If you let the bat encircle you two, turn to page 17.

If you stop the bat from interfering in your relationship and take your phone back, turn to page 3.

If you can just tell your girlfriend doesn’t have time for your chicanery, turn to page 8.

Page 17

The bat closes you two in, creating a small room around you with its wings as walls and its eyes as the overhead light. The white light bounces off its pearly teeth as it watches the two of you at the kitchen table.

“Listen, baby—”

The bat cuts you off with a hiss before beginning its speech in a tiny voice using a splice of your secret language and English. It tells you of how it fell in love with you. You are so caught up in its words that you don’t realize that your girlfriend can clearly understand everything that the bat is saying. It then turns away from you and to your girlfriend.

This is the part of THE PLAN that you weren’t sure about. How would your girlfriend take it? Would she run? Would she finally call that exterminator that guarantees a pest free home or money back?

Before the bat can speak, your girlfriend runs a hand through the thick black hair along its chest. The bat vibrates in pleasure.

“Don’t speak. I already know what you’re going to say and yes. Yes, I love the two of you, too. You two are the apples of my eyes.”

If you are mad that there’s something going on between your girlfriend and your bat lover, take your phone back and turn to page 3.

If you couldn’t be happier that your girlfriend is ready to enter the next chapter of love with you and your bat lover, go to the Halloween party together.

If you feel like there’s no way you’re good enough for both your bat lover and your girlfriend, backpedal out of the situation and turn to page 7.