Ratty Box Halloweem Adbenture

Barry and Baxter were hard at work at the Candy Corm Palace, so when they needed some more supplies for organizing the corms, they sent the littles to get them. Little did they know, the path would lead fru a haunted forest. And it was getting dark. The wind howled fru the trees, and the haunted forest seemed to whisper “turn back…” But ob course, Barry and Baxter’s supply list was long, and the littles were determined. Fish held the map upside down, Reuben clutched the flashlight, was muttered somefing about spectral cheese.

The house looked oddly cheerful from the outside — smiling pumpkins, glowing windows — but the second they stepped in, the door slammed shut behind them.

A flicker of light, a pop, and Reuben banished. Fish spun around — “Reuben?!”

Outside…from above came a faint squeak. There he was, tangled in a spider web, dangling down inside a politely confused bat. The bat introduced himself as Gregory.

Fish, meanwhile, was inspecting a bowl on the table. “I fink it’s pudding,” he announced. The pudding blinked.

Baxter’s boice echoed faintly from the tiny radio in Fish’s pack — “Did you find the Batty Bites yet?”

Not exactly.

The lights flickered again. The pumpkins on the house started to giggle. And somewhere in the shadows, somefing was definitely whispering about cheese…Reuben dangled upside down, swinging gently as Gregory the bat tried to explain himself.“ I didn’t mean to catch you,” said Gregory. “I was just redecorating for the Halloween rush.”

Barry had followed after them, slightly concerned about their ability to nabigate the forest alone. “Hang on, Reuben! We’ll get you down!” he said, sounding only half-conbinced.

Fish squinted up at the tree. “We could stack furniture! Or… make a ladder out ob cheese sticks!” Barry sighed. “You ate the cheese sticks.”At that moment, the floorboards creaked. The pumpkin lights along the walls flickered like nervous little eyes, and the “Trick or Treat” sign turned itself around — now it read, “Too Late.”

Reuben gave a small squeak. “Uh… Gregory? Is your house supposed to do that?”The bat frowned. “No. That’s new.”

Suddenly, Baxter’s voice crackled fru the tiny radio again, a little distorted: “Guys… whateber you do, don’t open the pantry door.”

Everyone froze. Fish’s paw was already on the pantry handle.

There was a click. A long, low groan came from inside.And then —WHOOSH! Out swirled a gust of glittering dust, floating like fog. The air shimmered, and shapes began to form — tiny ghosts wiff pumpkin helmets, giggling and bouncing around like mischievous marshmallows.

Reuben finally managed to free himself (wiff Gregory’s help), and they all huddled together as the ghost-puffs began chanting: “TRICK or TREAT, TRICK or TREAT — gib us somefing cold to eat!”

Fish held up a wedge of brie. “Does… this count?” The ghosts squealed in delight and zipped off toward the forest, leabing a faint smell ob cheese and mystery behind.

The door creaked open again — this time on its own — and a sign floated down from the ceiling, glowing faintly: “Fanks for bisiting Ratty Box Haunted Supply Depot. Come again soon!”

The littles blinked at each other.Reuben brushed cobwebs from his fur. Barry sighed. “We’re telling Baxter this counts as getting supplies.”

Fank you Ratty Box for a fun Halloweem Adbenture!