As an adult, Herbert no longer trick-or-treated, but Halloween was a holiday that kept on giving. Now, the best part was holiscrounging candy on the first of November.

“Are you going to the party?"
“No, I’m—"
“Or are you going to stay in and study?"
“I’ll be—"
“Or maybe have some fun by yourself?"
“…I actually have choral rehearsal, so I’ll be going to that."
“Oh, right! Do you have any solos?"
“I—"
“I remember last time it looked like you were going to get one, and then you didn’t, so do you have one this time?"
“Jeez, could you not inquivere so much? If you’d just close your mouth I could answer you much faster.”

“And then he went golfing or something. He was always golfing,” finished Carol. She took a sip from her drink.
Jasper grinned. He knew a great golf joke that would fit perfectly into the conversation. He opened his mouth.
“Oh man, with my dad it was trap shooting,” said Kiaran. “He knew the owner of this place out of town and went every weekend."
“Ugh, I hate guns,” said Carol.
The conversation continued, staying far away from golf. Jasper sighed - the statute of awkwardness had expired and he’d missed his chance to tell his joke. He’d have to find some other opportunity to be clever.

Cleaning out his closet, Jon found an old box that had never been unpacked through several years' worth of moves. Opening it up, he found the Star Wars novels he’d obsessively collected and read as a teenager. For a moment he was excited, and then he felt a strong sense of lostalgia as he recalled that this particular volume had been a gift from his mother who had died two years ago.

Nicolas was known to his coworkers as productive, professional, and a bit of a hardass. His girlfriend knew him as sweet, relaxed, and a bit goofy. Now that things were getting more serious between them, she wanted to meet his coworkers. Nick was deeply concerned about mixing these two cortexts, and knew he’d have no idea how to act with both in one room.

Marten and Lucas met during undergrad and became fast friends. After completing graduate programs at different universities and then reuniting in the professional world, they found it impossible to jump back in to their old ways, and had to go through a frustrating period where their talk was so much frattle before they could really reconnect.

Gabriella worked on the 24th floor of her building. Riding the elevator to her office, it was hard not to be annoyed by the extra stops incurred when someone would increvate rather than take the stairs.

“Hey man, where were you yesterday?"
“Oh. I… I had cularia."
“Oh. Oh! Say no more. Glad you’re feeling better.”

Ceri knew better than to call her ex. It was far too soon to try to be friends; she hadn’t yet reached a point where she could think clearly about him. It would be an obsaster.
She did it anyway.

Nelson required himself to complete his morning workout before he could get started on his day. But with how much he loathed doing pushups, that often meant several minutes each morning were spent standing around doing nothing as he frepcrastinated between sets.

Sitting down in the breakroom with their takeout lunches, Grant watched as Anzo produced a small bottle of tabasco sauce from his bag.
“Wait… did you take that from the condiment table at the restaurant?” asked Grant, recognizing the bottle.
“Yeah,” said Anzo, drizzling the sauce onto his meal.
“So you just stole it?” asked Grant.
Anzo shrugged. “They figure a certain amount of that into their finances anyway,” he said.
“Oh, I see,” said Grant. “You subscribe to tabasco ethics.” He made a mental note to keep his desk drawers locked.

“Does the temperature matter for storing this?"
“To a degree. Oh, sorry, that was a punintended consequence. The temperature matters a little but not much. Just don’t let it get over seventy degrees or so.”

Stephania loved her husband, and they’d both compromised some of their daily habits for the sake of the other. But whenever he was away on business for a few days she made sure to libsent by enjoying things he couldn’t stand - blasting death metal through the house and getting Indian takeout.

Renata and Fargus had gone to the sushi place on Orchard Street enough times for it to become nakoral; by now, each of them refused to visit it without the other.

“Hey, Gaston called. He won’t be able to make the movie."
“Okay, we’re down one, then. Wait, Gaston? He’s the one who wanted to see this movie in the first place - and he’s the only one who’ll be able to explain the stinger after the credits. He’s the clavimere; we can’t go without him. Let’s reschedule.”

Dursan ignored the other man as they both stepped into the elevator. However, when they found the floor buttons nonfunctional, the situation rapidly became joindoorish, and they laughed with each other before stepping back out into the hall.

Anneliese knew it was a fulnut and awkward to carry around, but the eyeglass repair kit had come in handy enough times to justify a permanent place in her purse.

“I can’t believe you’re going to be gone for two whole weeks! I’m gonna miss you! In fact, I already do! I anmissipate you!”

Looking at her day planner for tomorrow, Pamelia noticed she had a lot of fragmendaytion - her errands and appointments tended to be separated by blocks of fifteen to thirty minutes of unscheduled time.

“I know you’re just trying to make conversation, but it’s not a very pleasant conversation for me if I’m spending the whole time crafting explanations to answer your questions that you could just as easily have asked the internet. I’d prefer you stop efforjecting for a moment and educate yourself rather than asking me to do it."
“Efforject? What does that mean? Wait, nevermind, don’t answer that - I’ll look it up on urmandictionary.”