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((Alvaro Vacanti continued from Book Reports for Assholes: An Illustrated Guide. Also, feel free to be as loose as you want with post order, as this is going to be a party thread.))

“It’s close to miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiidddddddddddddd- night, and something evil’s lurking in the dark.”

Vacanti’s. October 31, 2014. Alvaro Vacanti was at an empty table, replacing the previously used cutlery with cleaner equivalents. Steel, not plastic. Well, he wasn’t really sure whether it was steel or not but it was grey and it was metal so he figured that saying that it was made of steel was a good enough bet. He was tapping the hand he wasn’t currently listening to the music. Thriller, he remembered it was called. He had never heard it in its entirety before but he had heard bits and pieces of it before and had seen parts of the music video, but this was the first time he had actually been able to listen to the song in full and just from this he could see why it was still famous today. It felt fun, in a way. He could see why people liked to dance to it.

He finished placing the new cutlery on the table and he stepped back, looking around. He had to admit, even as much as he didn’t really like to brag or talk about himself the place looked pretty good. The walls were decorated with paper… things. He didn’t really know what the word was for what he was trying to describe. He know what the decorations on the wall were, of course - skeletons, pumpkins, black cats - but he didn’t know how he’d group them all into one term. Odd. He’d have to look that up. Anyway, the lights now had a little more of an orange tint, and the tables were slightly more bunched together to make room for a mini dance floor. It looked good, obviously not something they’d keep the establishment in but it worked well for tonight.

The main reason that they had done this was mostly due to customer requests. A couple people had approached Alvaro at school questioning whether a Halloween party at Vacanti’s was possible or not and the idea seemed good enough so he talked to it with his family and they agreed to it. The notifications were up, and assuming that everyone who said they were coming was telling the truth then he figured that the place would be packed, which was good. Good for the cafe, and good for the workers, as since this was outside of hours (as it started half an hour as the cafe normally closed for the night) they were going to get paid for overtime. Really, considering the good stuff that had already happened he couldn’t see how this night could turn bad.

Still, it hadn’t started yet. As much as he hoped and expected it to be good, anything could happen.

He went to the door, turning the sign from closed to open. It was still a little early, and there was nobody at the door, but at least now he could say the party had started.

Hopefully it would turn out okay.
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In This Town We Call Home, Everyone Hail To The Pumpkin Song · Memories from the Past