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On Halloween, at the top of Forlorn Hill in a house gray and gloomy, ignored and avoided by the town-folk, a grumpy old Warlock with an aptitude for poor attitude worked words of wickedness into a spell he was sure would rid him of pests. So tired was he of the annual gleeful squeals of trick-or-treaters in their wardrobes of disguise, fueled by the sweetness of their innocence and an overload of sucrose, that he cursed the candy corn! The much-loved sweet treat which usually brings smiles to every man and child would now only bring about a sense of doom and gloom when eaten, forcing a frown on the faces of those Halloween revelers. No longer would they want to scream and play all this night and day. They would prefer only to sit at home quietly, eating Brussel sprouts and cleaning their rooms. The wrinkled Warlock smiled at the thought of complete silence in town and settled down in his favorite worn out chair to prepare to bask in the hush of the evening.
That night at the corner of Gourd and Vine, the Pumpkin Witch, Corwinne Widdershin, glanced out at her empty, lighted porch. Not a trick-or-treater in sight. No ghosts. No goblins. No lions, or tigers, nor bears. "Where is everyone?" she asked aloud. The empty streets replied nothing. Curious and concerned, she headed to the town center. She could see people in their homes, sitting quietly at their dining tables consuming ominous green orbs, wearing masks of indifference, smiles never eclipsing their faces. "How odd," she thought. She furrowed her brow, determined to discover an explanation for the town's odd behavior.
She walked up to a splendidly decorated door, noticing the unlit jack o' lanterns and the bowls of candy untouched. "Yes?" answered a small, ghostly boy dressed in pajamas. "Why aren't you out trick-or-treating, dear?" asked Miss Widdershin. "Oh, I thought I would just stay home and clean my room this year," replied the child. A bit shocked and now gravely concerned, Miss Widdershin asked "Why?" "Well, no-one's celebrating." Miss Widdershin glanced furtively inside the doorway and saw the whole family in their pajamas, costumes unworn laid over chairs' arms. "This isn't right," she thought, frowning. She looked down at the bowl of candy and saw with bewilderment something especially unusual. Inside small bags of plastic was candy corn, but this was not the usual orange, white, and yellow hallmark of Halloween. The tiny triangles was gangrenous green and glittered villainously, with faces of discontent stamped deeply on their surfaces. "Did you eat any of these?" she asked the boy. "Yep. Everyone in town did today. We just thought the candy company was making them look funny this year," he answered, unsmiling. Miss Widdershin's eyes widened and she knew she'd discovered the source of the morose malady. Instinctively she turned around, looking up to Forlorn Hill, the house atop dark except for a single lighted window. "That crotchety old buzzard!" she muttered under her breath, remembering the Warlock's distaste for mirth and merriment. She thanked the child for his help, wished him a Happy Halloween, and briskly walked towards the hill.
Yiras Yogbine sat comfortably in his chair, his eyes closed, a deep smile on his face, his feet resting on a tattered ottoman. Three sharp raps at the door startled the warlock out of his repose and he creakily got to his feet. "Whoizit?!" he demanded. "Corwinne Widdershin!" haughtily replied the other side of the door. "Ah, hell . . . " grumbled Yiras, knowing full well he was about to face the fiery ire of the foremost Witch in Lore. "What have you done, you hoggish gargoyle?!" she asked as the door opened, her blazing eyes meeting his. The Warlock could feel the heat of her scorching glare. "What have I done to what, to whom?" he asked incredulously, knowing full well what he had done. "The candy, Yiras. You've done something to the candy corn to ruin Halloween!" "Ha! You can't prove a thing, Widdershin." Corwinne stormed past the old wizard and stomped into his kitchen. She found the instruments and ingredients of his offenses. "And just what is THIS?!" she challenged, grabbing the open Spell book sitting on his cluttered counter and singling the underlined 'Corrupted Candy' spell out with a steady finger. Yiras rolled his eyes. "Looks like a spell, there, Corwinne." "You depraved dolt. You cursed the candy corn! Everyone in town is miserable. Halloween is in peril, and it's your doing, Yiras! I must undo this at once. Attempt to stop me and you'll quickly regret it." Yiras smiled wanly, sadly, gazing out the window. "Aww, it was just a joke, Corwinne. A prank! Those kids in town always come up here on Halloween night to knock over my bird baths and blanket my trees in toilet paper. I just wanted a bit of peace this year." "There are better ways of remedying that situation. Extinguishing Halloween is reprehensible," Miss Widdershin said as she gathered the objects and elements of her 'Undo' spell.
When everything was ready, Corwinne lit the candles, closed her eyes, and waved her hands mysteriously in the air. Yiras sheepishly stepped back and watched her work. He had saved a packet of candy corn to monitor the progress of his spell. The green faces frowned and Corwinne frowned deeper in concentration as she monitored her own spell casting. With each passing moment and each utterance of magical words barely heard, the candy corn began to change from a dangerous green to a wilted yellow and finally to a brilliant orange. "It's complete," she said. A few minutes later they heard a whoop in the distance. Then another. Then the laughter and cacophony of children in the streets. She went to the window and saw that everyone, parents and kids, and even pets, too, had costumed themselves and were going door to door in the hopes of receiving chocolate bars and popcorn balls and other treats, unconscious of the trick Yiras had played on them all. Corwinne watched them lovingly, affectionately. Their joy and zealous laughter warmed her heart, and the warmth thawed the cold resentment she held for Yiras. She looked to the old Warlock who was himself staring out at the celebratory scene, a look of sadness and longing shining in his eyes. Corwinne then understood the Warlock's true problem - loneliness. The only time anyone visited this house was when they vandalized it on Halloween. Yiras felt Corwinne's stare and look at her suddenly, startled by what he saw. Compassion and understanding radiated from the eyes which only minutes ago had threatened to burn his house down. Corwinne gently grasped his hands and pulled him towards the front door. Embarrassed and apprehensive, Yiras looked at the Witch suspiciously. She smiled at him, and then he smiled, too. "Come!" she said. "This year you will join in the festivities! Never again will you sit by yourself in this lonely, groaning house when there is happiness to revel in!" Yiras grinned widely and his eyes sparkled with delight. The old Warlock and the Pumpkin Witch walked down Forlorn Hill, hand in hand, while the stars twinkled above them, and the people of Lore reached out to embrace them.
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