The sound of tires crunching over the gravel driveway pulls me out of my doze. Good, first customer in the last three hours. Hopefully it’s Him. I’ll never agree to watch the shop again, that’s for sure. My Uncle Mike owns this place, and usually he’s the only one here, but he had to have his gallbladder removed. Aunt Lindsay would normally cover for him, but she’s got to be there to drive him home. She promised this was just for today, but I’m going out of my mind. I look out the window, trying to squint through the cloud of dust the arrival kicked up, but I can’t make out the car yet. I don’t know why Mike refuses to pave, but it’s probably because the shop doesn’t make enough from the two or three customers per week that make their way down the unlined backroad to get here by accident. As an errant breeze begins to push the sandy cloud back, the black prow of a 1971 Plymouth ‘Cuda emerges. It’s as shiny as if it wasn’t just enveloped in a cloud of gravel dust. I’m startled when the white puff unfolds to reveal four figures standing stock still around the car. The moment of shock passes, however, when I realize it’s Him! Without looking back to check, the moment the cloud dissipates over the road, the figures step toward the shop entrance. I can barely contain my excitement; He brought Piangi, Jordana, and even Rett! Piangi, dressed as an overweight pharoah is the first through the door, the others holding back as, without preamble, he belts out: Piangi: Ladies and gentlemen, boys and GIRRRRRLS!! He is The Doctor-Professor, The Showman, The Mothman, the Global Challenge Keymaster, the one-time Chaos, Conquest, and Global Champion of the WORRRRRLD!! You know his power, you're seduced by his voice, and you love his FAAAAAACE!! The Paragon of Performance, The Archetype of Amusement, The Cynosure of Spectacle, Montague CERVANTEEEEEEES!!! I can feel myself grinning from ear to ear as Piangi pulls out an actual French horn and exhales heavily into it. Monty leads Jordana–cosplaying as Skynd–and Rett into the shop, and the three of them look around appraisingly before the Showman breaks away to greet me. Montague: Are you Caleb? For a moment I’m stammering as my eyes dart over to Piangi inspecting the shrunken heads, then to Jordana admiring the speaking boards, and finally to Rett batting the leg of a giant, stuffed spider. I suddenly remember myself and cough out an unintelligible affirmative before ducking behind the counter to retrieve the promised item. Rising, I place the shoebox-sized trunk on the counter and flip the latches. Doing my best to fix my hero’s eyes with a look of anticipation, I turn the box around and raise the lid. Montague looks down into the chest, silently eyeing the misshapen cylinder couched inside the yellowed newspaper. My heart sinks when He asks: Montague: What the hell is that? Caleb: It’s… uh… ya know, the Black Flame… candle… The Doctor-Professor turns to look a question at Jordana, who has wandered up with curiosity. She glances at the candle before meeting His eyes and shaking her head with a shrug. Unbidden, the words tumble from my lips in a flaccid attempt to fix this. Caleb: The one Gilbert gives Becca and Izzy… the one that conjures… this is the real one, man, my Uncle Mike was an extra… he swiped it… I choke off my pleading explanation when I realize Monty and Jordana are just growing more confused at every word. Rett has climbed up on the counter and is examining the candle with his dot matrix eyes. Rett: Rett!! Suddenly, from over near the tree faces, Piangi begins to sing… Piangi: Come little children, I’ll take thee away… Into a land of enchantment… come little children, the time’s come to play… here in my garden of shadows… As he continues, I can see the realization dawn on the faces at the counter. Montague: You called me out here to the middle of nowhere for… a Disney+ prop? My mind screams at me to say something as my mouth gapes involuntarily. The Entertainment Professional who got me into professional wrestling is boring into me with a disappointed gaze, and I’ve suddenly forgotten how to form words. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the dot matrix eyes begin to cycle through as series of symbols as they glow brighter, illuminating the pitiful candle in red. My heart is racing, and I jump when Montague’s hand shoots out… but thankfully He’s only blocking Rett’s eyes. Montague: We’re out of time, it will have to do. Jordana: You’re going to give Tempest that? Montague: I don’t have any more time to look for something else. We need to prepare. As captivating and provocative as my return at Massive Melee was, the performance was sub-par. How much? This last He says to me, and miraculously, my voice returns. Caleb: It’s… it’s on the house… it… He rolls his eyes and snaps the lid shut, tucking the chest under his arm before whirling around to storm toward the exit. In turn, His three friends each cast me a disapproving glare before following Him out. I collapse into the chair behind me, unable to believe how badly I screwed this up. The ‘Cuda roars to life outside, and I shake my head in shame as it peels out. Caleb: Guess I need to pay for that… I stand up and slump over to the register, tapping the No Sale key to open it. I reach for my wallet, but it’s not there. In its place, I pull two tickets to Synergy out. I stare at them in ecstatic disbelief for at least a full minute before I realize Montague stole my wallet. — September 24… The Astro Creeps–Kosnar, Pisces, Tempest, and Daedalus–are all huddled together in the basement of the farmhouse, between the main level and the Underlook below. Daedalus has a book open, reading it carefully, with a look of doubt on his face. He glances up at Tempest. Daedalus: Do you really believe this? Tempest shrugs and silence fills the air as Kosnar and Pisces gaze at him expectedly. Tempest: …it worked for the Maitlands. Daedalus sighs, exasperated, and closes the book. Placing it on the table, he walks over to the concrete wall of the basement. Pisces looks down at the book curiously and giggles silently behind her mask as she reads the title to herself: Handbook For The Recently Deceased. Tempest: Shut up, Pisces! He turns away from Kosnar and Pisces and towards Daedalus, who is standing with a hand on his hip and a piece of chalk in the other hand. He looks at Tempest doubtfully. Tempest: I don’t know why any of you are looking at me like I’m crazy. We are literally standing above an underground hotel that houses some of the most supernatural and paranormal activity in this world. And I don’t see any of you coming up with any good ideas on trying to find Montague. Daedalus: Well, what about… September 17… The Astro Creeps are gathered in the farmhouse living room, sitting all around a table. The lights aren’t on (are they ever?) and several different white candles are lit in the room, shadows dancing on the walls with the flames. A Ouija board is centered on the table. Daedalus appears to be somewhat annoyed. He looks down at the planchette and sighs. Daedalus: I honestly think that Montague is around. He probably just got lost somewhere in the Underlook. Tempest: Montague? Lost? I would give him more credit than that. This is as much his home as it is ours. Daedalus: Yes. And how many times have any of us come close to losing our way down there? Even me, and I designed it! Tempest: Okay, well Pisces believes this will light his way back home. Daedalus looks at Pisces, who nods slowly. Daedalus: Fine… He looks back down at the planchette. Daedalus: Are there any spirits among us here tonight? The Creeps watch with anticipation as the planchette remains still. Kosnar clears his throat and Daedalus looks up at him in confusion. Kosnar: You’re supposed to start off by saying, hello. September 24… We return back to the basement with the Creeps listening to Daedalus tell the Ouija board story. Tempest: …and we all saw how that worked out. Daedalus: Exactly! Not well, and who did we have to call? Tempest: Don’t you dare say it. Pisces giggles behind her mask again, and a smile pulls at the corners of Daedalus’ mouth. Daedalus: As you wish. But, you know this is a bad idea, and so do I. And yet, here I am, drawing a fucking door. I’m not responsible for what this lets in. He turns and draws the door. After he finishes with the door knob, he backs away cautiously. Behind him, Kosnar clears his throat. Daedalus turns questioningly. Kosnar: …you’re supposed to knock three times. Daedalus: Oh, right. He steps up to the “door” and takes in a deep breath before knocking on it three times. For a moment, nothing happens. And then… October 2nd… Daedalus: …and we all know how that turned out. The Creeps nod in agreement as they sit at the table in the living room. The original Friday the 13th movie is fuzzy on the television set beyond them. Each of them holds a hand of playing cards. In the middle of the table are their wagers: a plastic baby blue eyeball plucked from a special Good Guy doll, a curious perfectly square box, a bucket of fried chicken imported from a gas station in Texas, and one free ticket to a place called the Blue Skeleton. Tempest: Yeah but this time, I think it’ll work. The architect’s eyes flick up at Tempest in annoyance. Daedalus: Okay, but look at what your ideas have brought into this house to this point. I’m still having a hell of a time with both the dollhouse and the model of Gnaw Bone upstairs. Tempest: Oh please, you love it! Not only does it keep you busy, but it’s brought more meaning back into your life! I’ve seen a light in your eyes that hasn’t been there in a long, long time. The Creeps’ leader shakes his head in denial. Daedalus: No, it’s a mess. That damned head has done nothing but wreak havoc on the Hastings’ and let me tell you something else, T. There’s only room for one bio-exorcist in this farmhouse, and you’re looking at him! Silence fills the room following Daedalus’s fit of rage. The Creeps look amongst one another quietly. The Hastings are the family of figures that Daedalus has living in the strange doll house he built months ago. And while he’s right, there has been some intriguing paranormal activity going on in the farmhouse, Tempest wants to find Montague. Daedalus: Besides… we don’t even have a proper recipe or a… He looks up at Tempest as he trails off, who is staring at him with a mischievous grin forming behind his mask. Daedalus: …book… to tell us… what we need—ok fine! What is it? Tempest: Okay, hear me out… all we need… is blood… milk… and sky. He says it as he bends down and lifts a book bound by flesh. An eyeball rolls on the book’s cover, alive and aware. Daedalus: I can only assume that’s Eden Morgan’s eyeball. The Spider King grins. Tempest: I wish. But no. It says here… He opens the book, tossing his playing cards–a four of a kind–down on the table. A sigh of relief escapes Pisces as she quickly snatches the ticket to the Blue Skeleton back into her possession. Then we fade… October 3… Daedalus: …and we all know how that turned out. The Astro Creeps are backstage at Massive Melee before the show starts. From the decor and equipment, it's obvious they're in Montague's recently disused locker room. Tempest: Enough! This time it’s going to work… He lifts the sapphire amulet in his left hand, and a 19th century railroad signal lantern in his right. Ignoring the rolling eyes watching him, he begins to chant: Tempest: As you can see… I go back and forth… that's right… back and forth… back and side to side… To everyone else's shock, the door of the locker room opens, and Montague Cervantes walks in. Montague: Oh, hello everyone! Glad to see you! Since you're here, is everyone comfortable with my entering the Massive Melee as a surprise? There are slight head shakes and mutterings of approval around the room. Montague winks and tips his hat. Montague: Fantastic! It's going to be great to be back! With that, he turns and exits. Daedalus, Kosnar, and Pisces all turn to Tempest, who fixes them with a knowing smirk. — Tempest, Daedalus, Kosnar, and Pisces are in the kitchen of the farmhouse, playing some strange version of “flip cup”. On one end of the scarred and pitted table, Pisces and Tempest are paired up, while Kosnar and Daedalus form a team on the other end. Arranged in front of each team is a row of four knives. Currently, three of the knives on either side are stuck, pointy end down, in the surface of the table. The final daggers are laying on their sides, blades out. Pisces and Daedalus are rapidly smacking at the undersides of the blades, attempting to flip them up into the air with enough force and speed to cause them to stick the landing, so to speak. Daedalus’ dagger makes one full rotation before sticking, followed by Pisces completing the effort a split second later. Tempest and Kosnar rush in to remove the knives, laying all four down to start their round. Just as they begin slapping at the bottom of the first set of daggers, the door swings open and Montague steps in. He’s carrying what looks like a grease-stained brown paper takeout bag. Montague: Oh, Flip Dagger is it? I love this game! Daedalus: When we’ve finished this game, we should draw lots for partners and play again. Montague: I’d love to have a go, but first… He lifts the paper bag. Montague: I got something, to, um… celebrate my official return and our debuting The CreepShow finally. He extends the bag out to Tempest with an uncharacteristic awkwardness, then clumsily drops it into Tempest’s outstretched hand. Nearly cringing, Monty takes a step back and bites his thumbnail as he braces for the reaction. Tempest sets the bag gingerly on the table, reaching inside with measured care. He slowly extracts the shoebox-sized trunk and places it beside the bag. Taking a moment to rub his hands together, he presses his thumbs into the latch and lifts the lid. Montague winces. Tempest: Unholy… fucking… hell… Monty winces, but stutters through an explanation that amounts to nothing being actually said. He drops silent when his Cooperative partner lifts the lump of wax into the air. Tempest: Behold! The Black Flame Candle!!! To Montague’s surprise, the room bursts into excited chatter, and the rest of the Creeps close in to admire the gift. Daedalus: Well done, Montague. He’s been on the lookout for this for a while. Montague can only nod, flummoxed at this unexpected response. Tempest sets the candle on a nearby crooked hutch and steps back to admire it there beside a familiar looking Book. With all the satisfaction of one who has just completed a ship in a bottle, he turns to beam at Montague with his one good eye. Presently, he sweeps his hand out over the kitchen table. Tempest: We were in the middle of a game, but I’d be honored to have a round of Flip Dagger with you? Montague grins at the invitation and steps up to the end of the table where Daedalus and Kosnar were playing. Tempest moves into the opposite position, and they lean forward with anticipation. Daedalus steps up to start the contest. Daedalus: 3… 2… 1… Go! The moment the word ‘go’ flies from his throat, Montague slams a fist down on the table between both sets of knives. All eight fly up into the air, somersault, and land with their points stuck in the tabletop. Tempest stares in disbelief for a full ten seconds before everyone in the room, including him, bursts into laughter. — The Spider-King and The Mothman lounge in chairs behind the ruined kitchen table, looking easily into the camera. On the table in front of them is the UGWC World Championship, surrounded by a random array of daggers driven into the table. Montague: You didn’t think I’d really let the Season of the Witch go by without reuniting the Astro Creeps? Tempest: The CreepShow is live. Montague: I suppose I should approach my return match from a place of gratitude… After all, our opponents both had a hand in where we are today. Who can say? Without Holden's influence as Creative Director, forcing Tempest and I to journey into one another's minds as reluctant partners, we may never have set aside our differences to become the most dominant guild in UGWC history. Montague: Unfortunately, you’re a microcosm inside the Astro Creeps’ neverending Spooky Season. Tempest: None of us are far from our most recent leave of absence, but turn back the clock and take a look. Shall we have a comparison of where we each were in our careers before we stepped away? I think you’ll find the contrast is stark. He motions toward the World Championship. Tempest: The Astro Creeps deal in experience without limits. Demons to some, angels to others. Though we too are forced to trade in your currency to further our designs, at the core we provide pain and entertainment, indivisible. We have such sights to show you…
Tempest: And if not for Phrixus' surprisingly well-timed trespass, well… No one wanted to see King Freak and the Doctor-Professor trade the Global Championship back and forth month after month. We owe you so much. How could we go back to the innocent days of 2 Masks 1 Phrixus, when your three-piece troupe would compete to be the jester with the driest sense of humor? It was so much simpler to dismiss you when you were playing BLT-based pranks on one another slightly below anyone’s notice.
Montague: Now look at you. Two Keyholders down, two to go. Defeated one of 2022’s most exciting World Champions, and have two more on your playbill this week. You even unseated Baltimore’s Dregs and reestablished your cooperative team as one to take notice of. You’re inches from prestige.
Montague: You both have a history of ebb and flow when it comes to your relevance and success. We understand your confidence, but it’s ultimately misplaced. Eventually, the golden grains of sand you’re carefully counting will run out, because you value the same currency the rest of the High Societies do. The coin of the realm. Your tin badges.