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The morning began, as so many others had, with Gilbert and Vincent being shoved into Alice’s beat up old car with little to no explanation as Alice and Oz seemingly competed over who could break the most traffic laws at once.
Gilbert had, to his immense surprise, found that he had begun to enjoy this—the early mornings, the too-fast car rides with the too-sharp turns, Oz and Alice’s friendly bickering—even more than he enjoyed getting to sleep in.
“Here we are!” Oz announced as Alice drove directly through a street sign. “The Summerween Superstore!”
“Summer-what?” Vincent asked, leaning forward and already removing his seatbelt. Oz reached back without looking and rebuckled it for him.
“Summerween!” Alice parked across three separate places. “The people of this town love Halloween so much, they celebrate twice a year—and that second time is today! Congratulations—we’re going to dress up and scare children!”
And so they went into the store. Alice amused herself with a talking skull, while Gilbert and Vincent went to get costumes and Oz presumably started stealing everything that wasn’t nailed down when all the shop assistants went to try and get Alice away from the skulls. Naturally, they were kicked out less than twenty minutes later without paying for a single thing, banned from yet another store (though Gilbert was certain that they’d just sneak back in anyway whenever they wanted to return) though overloaded with candy, costumes, and what appeared to be an uncomfortable amount of fake blood and very, very real raw meat.
“You guys excited for tonight?” Oz asked as Alice took a turn on the wrong two wheels and Gilbert thanked his lucky stars for the existence of seatbelts yet again.
“It’s our first time dressing up for Halloween!” Gilbert told him excitedly. “Or—Summerween, I guess!”
“Wow, you guys are in for a treat!” Oz said, once he peeled himself off the windshield. “I bet you’re going to look awesome, and get all the candy.”
“Will you be coming with us?” asked Vincent.
“Nah, I’m going to be staying home and scaring all the kids so that we get to keep our candy,” said Oz.
“I’m going to hunt the Summerween Trickster for sport,” Alice added. “Technically, it’s a monster that goes after those with no Summerween spirit, but my Summerween spirit is hunting it down, and if that doesn’t count, that just makes my job easier.”
“As if that’s a real thing,” Vincent scoffed, looking up from where he was looking through the bags of candy they’d gotten, despite all the impossible things they’d seen that summer and the many more impossible things in the journal they’d found. Gilbert elbowed him, and Vincent amended his statement. “Even if it is, though, Gil and I definitely have enough Summerween spirit to go around.” He pulled out one of the candies and examined it. “Ugh, this is crap!”
“Nonsense,” said Oz. “It’s candy.”
“Yeah, lame candy,” Vincent muttered, and chucked it directly out the window.
The first ring of the doorbell came when the four of them were halfway through getting all the interior decorations set up. Vincent, who was still unsure about how he felt about this whole Summerween thing, volunteered to get it, and opened the door to find Noise and Echo staring at the other end, Echo looking supremely bored with being here, and Noise as overenthusiastic as always.
Noise and Echo were not the girls’ real names. However, as long as he’d known them, neither girl ever used her real name. The pair of identical twins were Gilbert and Vincent’s biological cousins, and he’d known them since they were all very small, and it had been their family that Gilbert and Vincent had been sent to after they were abandoned, though, with everything that went down with the twins, that had not lasted very long at all.
“Oh, Vincent!” Noise sang out. “Echo and I are throwing a Summerween party tonight, and you’re invited!”
“Oh, so you aren’t Trick-or-Treating?” Vincent asked.
Echo scoffed. “That’s for babies.”
“We wouldn’t be caught dead ,” added Noise. “What, are you going?”
Vincent rolled his eyes. “Obviously not, ” he said. “Gil wants to, though.”
“Lame,” scoffed Noise.
“Is Oz taking him?” asked Echo.
Vincent shrugged. “I think he said something about scaring off kids, or something,” he said.
“Hm,” said Echo, who harbored a strange fascination with Oz Vessalius and had never been scared of a single thing in her life.
“Anyway, party’s at nine,” Noise said, passing over a flyer. “Be there or I’ll bite you.”
“You don’t have rabies anymore, it’s fine,” said Vincent. “But, yeah, I’ll come.”
“Or don’t,” Echo suggested, and Vincent rolled his eyes and closed the door in her face.
By the time the sun had set, Alice was finishing up getting into what appeared to be hunting gear and Gil had gotten into his costume—a jelly jar, matching the peanut butter one that Vincent had picked out earlier that day. He felt a slight twinge of conscience at that (he loved spending time with his brother) but between the choice of dressing up in a stupid costume and getting shitty candy and going to a party and messing with Noise and Echo, he definitely was going to choose the latter. Besides, Gilbert’s two friends from that party were here already—the girl dressed as though she were riding a pitch black unicorn, and the boy in a horrifically convincing zombie costume, his empty eye socket bared for all to see with a fake eye on a spring spilling out of it. Vincent’s presence was definitely unnecessary. As per usual.
Vincent stayed out of sight, in order to avoid the inevitable reveal that he was not trick-or-treating for as long as possible, and watched as Oz finished closing up the shop and made his way back inside, looking for all the world like a completely normal human being, despite his aforementioned creed.
That should probably be a bit more worrying.
“Oz!” Gilbert said enthusiastically. “These are my best friends—Sharon and Break! Sharon’s a unicorn trainer, and Break’s Kevin Legnard’s reanimated corpse.”
“Nice to meet you both,” said Oz politely.
“Where’s my $30?” said Break.
“I suddenly have no idea who you are. I’ve got amnesia. Always a pleasure to meet one of my charge’s friends—”
“We’ve been going to the same poker night for fifteen years—”
Fifteen? Oz looked like he’d been maybe three fifteen years ago. Had Vincent and Gilbert been way off about his age?
“I don’t know what poker is,” said Oz, maintaining an impressive poker face, “and I certainly don’t owe you any money…have you seen Gilbert and Vincent’s costumes yet? They’re matching. It’s adorable.”
“I don’t care about adorable, I care about my thirty freaking dollars—”
“Oh Vince!” Oz hollered. “Have you got your costume on?”
Vincent, deciding that now was better than never, came downstairs, still in the same clothes he’d worn earlier, and pretended to be completely unaffected when Gilbert’s face fell.
“Some costume,” said Break.
“Oh, I’m not going Trick-or-Treating, it’s lame,” said Vincent. “Noise and Echo are throwing a party, and I’m going there instead.”
“You’re what?” Gilbert said, horrified.
“Are you sure?” Oz said. “I heard that people died at their parties.”
“Maybe they’ll hunt down that sewer rat Demios tonight,” muttered Break.
“Who?” asked Oz.
“Don’t worry about it. Do worry about paying me my $30, you freak—”
“Suddenly I’m deaf,” said Oz, heading back towards the shop. “Bye! Have fun Trick-or-Treating! Don’t drink anything strange or walk into any weirdly colored holes!”
“I will rob you!” Break yelled after him.
“Wait, why aren’t you going Trick-or-Treating?” asked Gilbert. “We bought matching costumes!”
“No, we stole matching costumes,” said Vincent as a knock came at the door, “and I decided I didn’t want to go, because it’s for losers.”
“It’s literally free candy,” said Break. “I’m old enough to be your mother, and I still go out every year.”
“Gross,” said Vincent.
“Says the guy with barbeque sauce on his T-shirt?” said Sharon.
Vincent rolled his eyes at her; Gilbert, looking unhappy, abstained from commenting and instead went to open the door.
A little girl was standing outside. She beamed up at him, held up her melon-shaped basket, and said, as cutely as humanly possible, “Trick or treat!”
Gilbert grabbed a handful of candy just as a shadow rose up behind the girl, scooped her up, and shoved her, screaming, down its gullet.
…Oz was getting really into this.
“Oh, my God, Lily!” Sharon screamed.
“Silence!” the shape roared. “You children have insulted me, and for that, you must pay with your lives!”
“You still owe me $45!” Break hollered.
“I thought Oz owed you $30?”
“He does. This isn’t Oz—Oz wouldn’t eat the kid Reim babysits.”
“Please don’t kill us!” Gilbert shrieked, trembling with tears.
“There is only one way to avoid your oncoming doom,” the shape intoned. “If you collect and bring me 500 pieces of candy by the time the last jack o’melon goes out…”
It blew out the jack o’melon that Oz and Alice had set out at their front door.
“...then I will let you live.”
Gilbert burst into tears.
“Right!” said Sharon a few minutes later, once Vincent had despaired of comforting his brother, summoned Oz to calm him down, learned that the monster was in fact the Summerween Trickster Oz and Alice had been mentioning earlier, and then promptly sent Oz away again. “Vincent needs to get his costume on, and then we’re going to get that candy!”
“I am not putting on that costume,” said Vincent.
“Do you want us to die, Vince?” Gilbert asked.
Bad question: Vincent wanted to die, but he didn’t want Gil to die, and he definitely didn’t want anyone to know that he wanted to die, and Break was looking at him suspiciously.
“Ugh,” Vincent sighed. “Fine.”
“Great!” Break said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get crackalackin!”
If there was one thing that Vincent and Gilbert Nightray were good at, it was acting cute in order to get their way. By the time it was 8:45 PM, they’d gotten 504 pieces of candy between the four of them, over half of which had been brought in by Gil and Vince, and Vincent had only stolen a little. He was watching over their cart as Gil, Sharon, and Break conspired about maybe going to some houses and getting some for themselves when Noise and Echo came by.
Vincent, who was completely rational and mentally healthy, dove directly into a bush, yanking the cart behind him and then watching in horror as it fell and spilled into the ravine and river.
Fuck.
Noise and Echo passed by, and Gil, Sharon, and Break returned, chattering about how the jack o’melons were almost out and wasn’t it a good thing they’d gotten more than enough candy.
Fuck, nuts, and piss.
“So, guys, bad news!” Vincent said as cheerily as he could manage. “I accidentally kicked all our candy into the ravine.”
“You what ,” said Gilbert.
“In my defense, I was trying to keep it from getting stolen by Noise and Echo.” And definitely not hiding like a coward. “...They don’t have it.”
“It’s in the fu—freaking river. If they’d stolen it, we could have just hunted them down and kicked their asses!” Break hissed. “...Butts!”
“Are you trying to avoid swearing?” Vincent asked, amused.
“You guys are eleven and twelve. Sharon is thirteen. I’m not going to expose you to curse w—”
The last jack o’melon went out.
The street went dark.
Gilbert let out a stream of swears that could make a sailor blush.
An even larger shadow loomed above them.
“Hello, children,” said the Summerween Trickster in a booming voice. “Where’s my candy?”
“Vincent drop-kicked it into a ravine on accident,” said Gilbert. “If you want, we can go gather it for you!”
The creature’s mouth pulled into a horrible grin.
“No,” it said. “That…was your last chance.”
“Mother— run!” shouted Break, grabbing Sharon by the arm and hauling ass back onto the sidewalk. Gilbert and Vincent bolted after him, and the four of them scrambled down the street, pursued by the monster, until a familiar-looking car slammed through it, exploding the thing, and skidded to a stop besides them.
“Get in!” Alice yelled, and they did so, half-scrambling over each other as she slammed down on the acceleration. Vincent was still unsure as to how she’d gotten her driver’s license, but her reckless driving was serving them well today, as they skidded and slid across the roads and away from the monster that Vincent could see reforming and chasing after them. They pulled into the parking lot of the Summerween Superstore, the car’s brakes screeching as they stopped near the doors and all rushed inside.
“Stay out of sight,” Alice instructed under her breath. “We can try to set up a trap in here—oh, they still have those skulls!”
“...What are you doing with those skulls…?” Gilbert asked slowly.
“Shh, and stay out of sight,” Alice told him, moving towards the shelf with the skulls on it as though entranced.
Gilbert opened his mouth to say something, but Vincent grabbed his arm and yanked him away and out of sight. They stayed crouched as the Summerween Trickster slowly, slowly moved closer to the doors—and then past them—
Alice’s hand slammed down on the skulls, and their inane laughter and shitty puns filled the store, and Alice laughed as the Summerween Trickster slammed its way in.
Fuck.
It took an immediate swipe at her; Alice dodged, nearly incandescent with joy at the battle and the shitty skeleton puns hurled at her by the plastic toys as encouragement. Her fight was short-lived, though, and Vincent watched in abject horror as the Summerween Trickster managed to scoop her up and slam her, kicking and screaming, down its gullet.
“Alice!” Sharon screamed, and Gilbert lunged at the monster, Vincent following in an attempt to shield his brother. Break, who had somehow gotten his hands on a massive knife, managed to slice its arm clean off when it tried to grab Sharon, and Vincent froze as he saw what the arm was made of.
“Shitty Summerween candy…” he murmured, nudging it with his shoe.
“What, you haven’t guessed yet?” scoffed the Trickster. “Did you ever stop to think about the candy at the bottom of the bag that no one likes? Every year the children of Gravity Falls throw away all of the gross, bad, rejected candy into the dump. So I seek revenge; revenge on the picky children who cast me aside. I'm made of every tossed piece of black licorice, every discarded bar of old chocolate with like that white, powder stuff on it. You know that stuff. You hate it!”
“I absolutely do,” muttered Vincent.
“No one would eat me. But now, I’ll eat you!” There was a pause; the Summerween Trickster looked down at its chest. “What is— oh God !”
It dissolved into horrified screaming as human arms pushed their way out of its midriff and then Alice Baskerville tumbled out, mouth full, happy as a pig in mud.
“Ah, Summerween Trickster hunting,” she sighed. “Best time of the year! —Do you guys want some?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Break said casually, pulling up a handful of taffy and beginning to munch at it.
“That is so gross,” Vincent whispered in Gilbert’s ear. Gil nodded.
“Wait…you…you actually think I taste good…?” the Trickster moaned.
“What food doesn’t?” said Alice.
“I fu—freaking love candy,” said Break. “I’ve had more cavities than there are teeth in this room.”
“Nasty,” said Vincent appreciatively.
The Summerween Trickster burst into tears, candy corn coming out of its eyes. “All I ever wanted…was for someone to say I was good…I’m so happy…!”
Neither Alice nor Break dignified this with a response, Alice digging in enthusiastically as Break took several tasteful bites here and there. As the pile of candy that had once been a monster lessened, little Lily from earlier crawled out, sticky but unharmed.
“I’ve been traumatized!” she declared to the room at large. “Again!”
And then, without waiting for a response, Lily turned and bolted from the room.
When they all got back to the Mystery Shack after dropping Sharon and Break off at their house, the entryway was covered in fake blood and Oz, looking happy as a clam, was perusing a box of fancy chocolates that Vincent knew they hadn’t bought earlier. He looked up and over at them.
“Did you guys have a nice night?” he asked.
“I missed the party,” Vincent groused.
“I had a great time Trick-or-Treating with everyone!” Gilbert chirped.
“I ate a man alive,” said Alice, “again.”
“This year’s Summerween Trickster?” Oz asked.
“It’s a hard task, but someone has to do it,” Alice said, pleased with herself, and Oz immediately began telling her how amazing and brave she was.
That was annoying, but, Vincent found, the night hadn’t been anywhere near as horrible as he’d feared.
Maybe there was something to Trick-or-Treating after all.