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It started as one of Copia’s “grand ideas” for “community bonding” as he put it.
He calls it “Serata del Terrore”-a night of scary stories by firelight- and somehow he has managed to drag every Papa, Ghoul, and sibling of sin that he could muster up into the common room of the ministry.
Candles are flickering, the fire crackles, and there is a huge bowl of popcorn that is already half-gone before the first story even starts. Copia is THRILLED with the turn out. He paces in front of the hearth with his cape dramatically cascading over his shoulders, flashlight under his chin, trying his hardest to look spooky. It lasts about ten seconds before Terzo, who is draped over the couch, shouts “You look like you’re about to sell us some garlic bread, fratello.” The entire room then dissolves into laughter.
Still, Copia presses onward, insisting his story will chill everyone to their bones- something about a cursed Abbey just like this one, ghostly footsteps, and a mysterious cloaked figure who disappears when the clock strikes midnight. With every dramatic turn of phrase his accent grows thicker and richer, a gleam in his eyes like he is giving a true performance on stage.
Secondo groans from the corner, arms crossed. “I’ve heard scarier noises from the espresso machine.”
Primo, always the enabler, elbows Secondo in the ribcage. “Shhh. Let him finish! He’s finally found his audience!”
“You mean the one person not heckling him.” Terzo murmurs, smirking and eyeing directly at you.
You’re trying so hard to keep a straight face-genuinely trying- you actually have to fight yourself. Copia’s theatrics are just impossible not to fully enjoy. He waves his arms like a conductor, miming footsteps and lightning sounds. He even gets some of the storm ghouls to mimic thunder and small zaps of lightning, which unfortunately for a brief chaotic moment, sets the fluff on Dewdrop’s tail on fire. This only sends everyone into a shrieking and laughing fit.
But Copia carries on, completely undeterred. When the story finally reaches its climax- the ghost about to reveal its true form- he lowers his voice to a whisper. The room falls completely silent, finally giving him the moment he’s been craving this entire time. Even Terzo sits up and leans forward a little, listening closely.
And then- in a perfectly timed, dead-serious tone of voice- Copia delivers the twist surprise ending:
“And the ghost said…boo hoo!”
The pause lasts half a heartbeat before the collective groan hits. Aether throws a pillow. Dewdrop’s snort loudly echoes off the walls. Terzo falls off the couch onto hands and knees wheezing, Secondo is muttering something about “perfectly good oxygen” and Primo walks up and just pats Copia’s shoulder like he’s proud of a small child.
But you? You’re laughing hysterically- Maybe it is the joke, maybe it’s the sheer absurdity of him standing in the front of the room with soot on his nose and candle wax on his sleeve- but it’s impossible not to laugh.
Copia brightens up instantly at the sound, adjusting his cape around his shoulders as if he planned it all perfectly. “See?! At least one of you appreciated the art!” He says beaming from ear to ear. You swear the room gets a little warmer from his smile.
Later on, when others have all drifted off to bed for the night, he’s still riding the high of having made someone laugh. You are side by side in front of the dying fire, relaxed.
“You know,” he murmurs softly “I was aiming for…terrifying.”
You tease him with a sweet smile “You were- terrifyingly funny, absolutely!”
A grin spreads across his face, and he bumps your knee with his “Ah, bene! I did my job then sì? A good scare or a good laugh- both make the heart beat faster hm?”
And with that he tosses the flashlight to the side carelessly- and swears up and down- that next time he’ll tell a real terrifying ghost story.
(You don’t believe him for a second.)