I came home from the Haunted Halls last night feeling like an airplane flew in to my chest. Ungodly tired and pooped out, I fell asleep almost immediately. I can’t speak for everyone else in it, but the last couple of weeks have been incredibly stressful.
Let me give a recap of what the heck is going on here; the Haunted Halls in a sixth grade event in Haddon Heights New Jersey, where we come up with an idea for a spooky skit that correlates with the season, and get props and make it work. Like a giant fundraiser. If I were to say so myself, which I am, always of course, the school owes us a favor or two, if not just a thank you.
First of all, the group I was with. We had some times, haven’t we? Writing the script, coming up with the props, trying not to let the thing crash and burn and turn in to a skit full of directionless brain-dead sloths was enough as it is. Practicing and rehearsing was a thing on its own. Brewing up the completely original idea of a cannibal diner. Although it wasn’t what I’d call the perfect thing, I realized long before that something of a standard set so high is quite the impossible to achieve, and if it were nothing would be special. Flaws bring out the fun in it. At the inevitable bias I posses after going through such a night, I believe we did a very good job, and not just our group took on such a flair that hopefully will not soon be forgotten. Countless other people put on skits that all have the potential to just say, “I did this, and I did good.” What a night! I am ready to fall back asleep again, but my in-depth rants haven’t take a turn for the better and signed off yet. I still have a lot more words boiling up that plan to spit up in a matter of seconds.
But, I must give a thank you to the 1st in line to the throne of Martha Stewart, and that is Mrs. Bannister, who made all of the food props and bought the aprons and chef hats. I mean, I don’t think even Martha Stewart would have the ‘guts’ to make something as sickly looking but also, for lack of a much higher and more praising word, amazing as this;
But on that final night, I think we pulled the loose strings and tied it all together. I’d like to give a play by play of our night from my perspective the way it mostly happened.
Well, it started off as when the first group of people were on their way through the other attractions. We were quite the lucky ones, for our group was stationed around the middle or so. Jacob was our scout, who made a conscious and brave decision to monitor where the group of people were at the beginning. We were a nervous wreck! Me and Christian were pacing around the dining room table, wondering what the heck was going on over there, and yelling at Lucas and Jacob, who were blowing the loose spiderweb props around and behaving in the rebel-ish way they normally do. Ryan was pushing the lanterns around, which was another thing to yell at. The longer the group of tourists lingered around the other groups’ skits the more nervous we grew, the only two of us displaying it was myself and Christian. Until, across from us, the group was watching the zombie prom skit, and that was the point where I bellowed a scream at Ryan, Lucas, and Jacob, and they were intimidated enough to get in their line and do what they were intended to do.
It was time. They closed in over on the front on the tent, looking bloodthirsty, which was conveniently the place for we were portraying a cannibal diner.
They came. They looked. They watched. And, you know what I realized? The people watching were definitely not qualified to judge us. And they didn’t. Seeing a group of third graders and their parents watch us perform a silly skit for the fun of it was about the least intimidating thing of the night.
Yup. That was how the night went. Just imagine all that repeating countless time for about two and a half hours. About, like, 30 times.
During the event, the power shut off countless times, Jacob broke our food props around 4 times, the smoke machine didn’t respond somewhere near 6, we were asked to improvise around 7, and it couldn’t have been better. I remember around one point the line wrapped around most of the block! At the end, sore and morbidly tired, I think we all slept with a dream in mind and with quite the story to tell.