One dark and lonely October 31st, a girl was home alone watching her favourite movie, Tim Burton's The Nightmare Christmas. Her name was Leila Anderson and she had long brown hair, green eyes, and oval rimmed glasses. Her nose had virtually no bridge, so her glasses kept falling off of her face and onto the floor. It was late, around 3 AM, and she knew she should be in bed. But this was Halloween, her favourite night of the year. The only way she could truly celebrate it was by watching this movie. She realized that Jack, Sally, and all those other characters weren't real, but to her they really existed, were as real as you or I.
She was just at the good song, Poor Jack, when she was interrupted by a knock at the door. It's 3 o'clock in the morning, she thought wearily. Who could it be? Mother and Father home early? Oh, please no. Her parents hated this movie, and even though both of her brothers were asleep, they still disliked her watching it. Skeletons were a sign of evil, they said, and it would put all sorts of 'ideas' in her head. Rubbish, every bit of it. Leila wasn't easy effected in 'that way' by this sort of stuff. She simply didn't believe in the things her parents worried would warp her so drastically. With a fake smile in her voice she cried "Coming!", wondering if her parents had lost their key. It certainly wouldn't be a first time for it.
Using extreme caution she opened the door a crack, peering outside. No-one there, just the darkness she's come to expect. She stuck her head out a bit farther, swinging the door open all the way.
"Hello?" she called. "Anyone out here?"
Before she was totally aware of what was going on, a caped figure leaped out of the bushes at her, forcing her back into the house. The figure loomed over her, probably smiling underneath his cloak. Great, she was missing the best part of the movie. She was now doing a crabwalk trying to get away from the stranger. She couldn't see his face due to the hood, but he was definately enthraled by her fright.
"Please!' cried Leila. "Tell me what you want!"
Still the figure came closer, showing no signs of slowing. But then something caught it's eye, the television screen. At this moment, Jack was confronting Oogie Boogie, and for some reason the intruder was attracted by it. His favourite movie as well perhaps? She stood up slowly, clearing her throat.
"Do you like that?"
The person was only able to murmer something she couldn't hear, so she repeated herself, a bit louder. Still no definite response. The heck with communication, she thought. She just wanted to know who her attacker was. Being as silent as possible, she tiptoed over to the person and with a cry pulled down his hood. The man turned around to face her, scowling.
"Oh my God," she muttered. This can't be true!" There, standing right before her eyes, was Jack Skellington! But....how?
"You measly little twerp!" cried Jack. "Now you've ruined my surprise!"
She was still stunned (well, wouldn't you be?) "But.....you're not real! You're a fictional character from the mind of Tim Burton!" Four more creatures popped into the picture, Sally, Lock, Shock, and Barrel. Leila shook her head. "Now I know my brain's been working overtime."
"Great job, Jack," said Lock while applauding. "So much for remaining undercover."
"Well, I got distracted, I'm sorry."
"By what?"
"That," he replied, pointing to the television screen. The 'fictional' characters all crowded around the screen, each equally confused as the other.
"What are we doing in there?" asked Sally. "I thought that....."
"I know," Jack cut in. "Something's really wrong here." All five immediately turned to Leila.
"Don't look at me," she insisted. "You're not even real."
"Not real?" Barrel asked. "We beg to differ."
"What I'd like to know is how we ended up in there," Shock muttered.
"Don't you know? You're all just fictional people created by a dude named Tim Burton!" Blank stares all around. "Jack is sung by Danny Elfman?" Nothing. "You're all stop-motion animation!"
Zilch. She held her arm up to Jack. "Pinch me, I'm dreaming." He did, making her cry out. "I didn't mean that hard!"
"Sorry."
"Don't worry about it." She shook her head. "This is all too incredible. I'm actually getting to meet the stars of my favourite movie."
"I thought you said we weren't real?" asked Sally.
"Obviously I was wrong." Now she felt nervous. "Wow, uh, I'm in Shock here."
"Yes?"
"Not you, It's a figure of speech."
"Oh. I get it."
Leila shifted uncomfortably. So, would you like to watch your movie now? Or do you have to be heading back?"
Jack looked at Sally. "What do you think?"
"Well, personally I'd like to see it. It'd be fun."
"Alrighty, then. We'd be delighted to".
Leila smiled and then shut off the movie, rewinding it. This was going to be interesting. After a moment she was ready, and Jack took off his cape, ready for some quality T.V. viewing. She pressed the play button. Preview time. But of course, who ever watches those, so she fast- forwarded through them all, stopping at the Touchstone Pictures logo. Danny Elfman's score began to play, and they saw the circle of holiday trees. The narrator began to speak, and Shock clapped her hands in delight.
"This is just the way it is in real life!" she exclaimed.
Jack scratched his jaw. "I like the detailing. Very precise."
They watched the entire 76 minutes plus the credits, and each of the Halloween creatures had something to say about it.
"I was too bossy," complained Shock.
"No really," Barrel said with mock disbelief. She clobbered her brother over the head. "Geez!" he cried, rubbing the spot.
"You were asking for it."
"I thought I was too short," muttered Lock.
"And I was way too quiet," said Barrel. "I should have gotten more lines. Dumb Caroline Thompson." Everyone just stared at him. "The credits said that she was the script writter."
"Well," sputtered Sally, "I didn't like my song. Too chiper."
"I always liked it," piped Leila.
"Coming from a human, I take that as an insult."
Leila frowned. "It was intended to be a friendly remark. You want it to be more your style? All right. It was a horrible piece of junk not worthy of being called 'Sally's song. Better?"
"Much, thank-you."
Jack frowned at his family. "You're all being babies now. To my way of thinking, It was fairly well done, for mortals."
Sally eyed him. "And I suppose you have no complaints whatsoever?"
"As always, I am the not-picky-one."
"Oh really, Mr. I-won't-eat-my-rat-stew-without-a-dash-of-tarantula-venom-on-the-side?"
"Can I help it is that's the only way I like it?"
Sally sighed with exasperation. It was hopeless trying to clear a point around him. He was sweet, yet so thick-skulled at times. She glanced over at a clock on the mantle. 1:37 AM. "We'd better leave, Jack," she told him. "There's still the Pumpkin Song to go yet."
He nodded. "I guess so." Then he turned to Leila. "You mustn't tell anyone of what you saw tonight, understand?"
"Sure do."
"Because you know what'll happen."
"Yep."
"And that wouldn't be good."
"Nope."
He shook her hand. "Well, Leila, It was a pleasure meeting you. Perhaps we'll meet again someday."
"Perhaps. Only next time, don't try and scare me to death, okay?"
"If I can remember, maybe."
The others said farewell also, and soon they had all left, leaving behind a stunned but otherwise satisfied Leila.
She woke up at 7:30 that morning in the same chair she had been watching The Nightmare in. She must have fallen asleep somewhere in the middle. That had to have been the best (and most vivid) dream she had ever had. She could actually feel Jack pinching her arm. But that was her wild imagination for you, playing that sort of trick on her. She tossed off a blanket she didn't recall having the previous night and stood up, stretching the kinks out of her body. Actually, she didn't even know she had owned that thing. She picked it up, observing it more closely. It looked like...a hooded black cape?