It was Halloween and I was working the haunted house for the tenth or eleventh year, the club I belong to does one every year to raise some funds to help kids and keep our programs going the rest of the year. It's always a challenge getting a place to hold it, the props to furnish it and then finding volunteers to man it. But many of us do it every year and have become great friends through the organization.
This year I went all out designing a wall that looked as if it had fallen in on me crushing the lower half of my body, effectively killing me. I built a false wall then the "crushing " wall was put on a pulley system so it could be raised and lowered to let me out for breaks and to go home at night. The only small problem was someone else had to let me out, from the backside of the false wall. It worked real well I would lie still as the guides walked our guests through the maze we had built as they neared me I would appear dead then reach out grabbing the leg of some poor unsuspecting young lady begging for help as I bled out.
And of course there were trinkets to buy glow sticks, scary stickers, shrunken heads, and we gave the little kids candy on their way out. Our guides each worked out their own stories to correspond with their trip through the house. Shirley was fairly new to our group and about ten years my junior good looking gal with longish black hair, and a devilish personality. She had married Larry a year ago and he had been in the group about three years and was a fun loving guy. He was the chain saw guy, and had been since he started, no imagination.
Shirley was working as a guide and she was good setting up the next scare like a pro and getting the actors out of jams if they needed. What you don't know about Haunted houses is the characters quite often get punched, kicked or hit for their trouble and the guide sometimes has to protect them. I was particularly vulnerable lying trapped on the floor grabbing at people. We had devised a working set up where as I grabbed for them, the guide would step up kicking me across the face (missing of course) then as I lie unconscious they stood sort of over me guiding the people on to the next scare.
The witch costume Shirley wore did little to cover the well-defined body under it. The flowing black skirt parted as she walked reveling the tall lace boots she ore under it, her bodice lifted her ample breasts into a nice cleavage. This was a witch extraordinary, if the kids weren't scared of her, their "daddy" probably was.
