Young Writers Society

Eleven at night, October thirty-one, Halloween. It was the perfect time to be hosting a costume party, and that’s exactly what Jameson and his roommates were doing. They’d invited their classmates at the small, prestigious college, and he was sure that there were a few plus ones he hadn’t met before. In total, there was about fifty people crammed into the little apartment, and they were having a heck of a good time.

Being Halloween, there were bowls of candy on practically every surface. As people danced to the Monster Mash, they reached out and stuffed handfuls of assorted chocolates, toffees and marshmallows into their mouths.

And the people, Jameson was amazed by the whimsical cast of characters that had turned up; fairies, skeletons, vampires, clowns, nurses, horses, superheroes, princesses… a plumber. He was dressed as a policeman himself. Not any of that ‘sexy cop’ rubbish, he’d found a proper second-hand uniform at a salvage store and now paraded around the room as a protector of the law. So you can imagine the irony he felt when Jameson heard his roommate, Justin, shout at someone pretending to be a thief.

“Hey! That’s my work!” Justin pointed at the criminal, a stick thin guy in a stripy black and white suit, finished with a black eye mask. He had the student’s assignment folder tucked under his arm. Jameson could imagine how many A plus plus plus’s would be in there; no wonder the thief wanted it.

“Let me through, he’s got my work!” Justin was trying to get to the other side of the room, which the thief had retreated to. A herd of horses, equipped with plastic carrots, were blocking his way. People laughed at the commotion, obviously thinking it was all an act. The criminal was in a thief costume, after all, and it was Halloween.

Jameson, though, lived in the apartment and knew that that was in fact Justin’s work, and there was no way in the world he would let it be used a prop for an act. The college student would never risk letting days of hard work fall into a bowl of melty chocolate caramels.

“Seriously, dude, stop!” Jameson joined in the chase. He was in a police uniform, for goodness sake, and a guy in a thief outfit was stealing something. It was his duty, as a protector of the law, to apprehend the criminal.

Realising that there were now two people onto him, the thief made a dash for the window. He paid no attention to the clowns and fairies in his way, he just pushed them right out of his way. This earned him a few cold glares, but when Jameson also rushed past them, they just giggled and watched the unfolding police-chase as if it was a play.

“It’s locked,” Jameson smirked as the criminal pulled at the latch. He thanked whatever gods were out there for making Ben, the third roommate, think to take precautions. They’d been warned by some of the college professors that things could get out of hand, but no one had mentioned that costumes could be used as disguises for acts of crime. Jameson was relieved that there was no one dressed as a murderer. Those vampires though…

The thief stared at him, big uncertain eyes hiding behind the mask. He didn’t speak, probably to keep his identity hidden, but an irritated rumbling came from the guy’s throat. He’d probably expected this all to be easy, as it was a costume party, but now there was an intrigued audience.

Justin, in all his Prince Charming glory, finally pushed through the crowd and stood opposite his roommate. They had the thief cornered now, as long as he didn’t duck through the middle of them, they could catch him. But, of course, ducking through the middle was exactly what he did.

The criminal grabbed the bowl of marshmallows from the windowsill and threw it at Jameson, on whom it rained a cloud of fluffy, pink and white snowballs. Then he pushed past Justin, who couldn’t grab at the thief without grabbing at a laughing, underdressed nurse. And that wouldn’t have been very chivalrous, when you considered he was wearing a crown and sword. As the thief got closer and closer to the apartment door, which, naturally, was unlocked to allow guests to pass in and out, Jameson made one last attempt to rally an army of skeletons and princesses:

“He’s actually stealing that!” Jameson waved at the folder under the guy’s arm. “That belongs to Justin!” But the crowd weren’t buying it. Some sarcastically nodded, some rolled their eyes, and most continued laughing as they watched the spectacle. All but one.

The irony of what happened next could have killed Jameson. Superman -that’s right, Superman- appeared out of nowhere and stuck his leg out in the thief’s path. The criminal ran right into it, tripping up and crashing to the floor in a pile of black and white stripes.

“Not today, sir...” Superman placed one red boot on the thief’s back, and crossed his arms, standing triumphantly with his chest out. “Not today.” The cheap apartment lighting beamed down on the hero’s chest, highlighting the S, and his long cape somehow blew in a nonexistent breeze.

All at once, the crowd began cheering. Fairies waved their wands in the air. The plumber threw his plunger like a college graduate throwing their cap. Horses neighed, guffawing with laughter. Skeletons howled with delight, high-fiving the vampires. Clowns honked their horns, and a couple of nurses created earthquakes with their strong claps.

“My hero!” The princesses sighed, keeping in character. Then they lost the plot and broke down in giggles. Jameson himself couldn’t help cheering, the whole situation was too brilliant. Crazy, and criminal, but brilliant.

Justin emerged from the crowd and stood over the moaning thief. He was about to lean down and pick up his folder, but Superman beat him to it.

“I believe this is yours,” the hero proudly handed over the precious object. Justin rolled his eyes, but gratefully shook the guy’s hand. This earned them another round of applause. “And now,” Superman continued his speech, “I shall hand over this criminal to the authorities.”

Jameson took this as his cue to act, and they were acting now, since Justin’s college assignments were no longer in danger. That didn’t mean he was any less angry with the guest in black and white stripes, though.

“Up you get.” Jameson tugged on the thief’s arm, and the criminal reluctantly climbed to his feet. In his proudest moment, Jameson, the protector of the law, removed the criminal’s black eye mask. A few of the party-goers nearby gasped as the thief’s identity was revealed, but Jameson wasn’t really surprised; it was Kyle Grimes, the only student in their class who was currently failing. He must have been so desperate to raise his grades that he’d planned this whole outrageous act, costume and all.

“Here,” Justin offered the criminal a bowl of mini chocolate bars, “take some candy and leave, You’re no longer welcome here.” Jameson admired the way his roommate handled the situation. He wasn’t beating him up, or calling the police. He knew that Justin wouldn’t even tell any professors that Kyle had tried to steal his work. But practically everyone from the class had witnessed his crime, so without a doubt, through sheer gossip, the professors would hear of what had happened. Jameson realised that the stupid guy had probably just destroyed any chance he had of passing.

“Everyone go back to what you were doing!” Jameson shouted at the crowd, most of whom had only just realised that they’d watched an actual thief being apprehended. “Show’s over!” He smiled at Justin, who grinned back, and then glanced at the half-full bowl of chocolate in his hands. He held the dish out to Superman, who was brushing down his cloak.

“Thanks for saving the day, man. Here’s your reward.” Superman happily took the chocolates, and was about to place one in his mouth when the apartment door swung open and almost flattened him.

“Woah, sorry.” Ben stepped inside, holding five cardboard boxes of pizza in his arms. Jameson remembered that he’d left to get some food; they didn’t expect their guests to eat candy all night, not that there was anything wrong with that, it was Halloween, after all. “Did something happen?” The roommate asked, looking at the marshmallows on the floor. “This place is a mess, and I just saw Kyle Grimes walking downstairs. He looked like his dog had just died.”

“It’s a long story,” Justin said, hugging his folder. “But before we tell it, give us the pizza.” Ben handed over the loot, which smelled divine. Jameson took one box and flipped the lid. Staring up at him was a beautiful supreme pizza, and then, within a second, he was staring at various hands. Yellow clown gloves, hands with henna, chainmail, powder-white vampire skin… everyone was grabbing the pizza.

“He’s a policeman!” Ben shouted, snatching a thick piece for himself. “Show some respect!”

Ironically, not one person did.