ᴛʜɪs ɪs ʜᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴇɴ; — ʟɪᴋᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ɢɪғ/sʜᴏʀᴛ sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ — ᴅᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴏᴛ ᴋɪɴᴅʟʏ ʀᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇᴛ.

ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ᴛʜɪs? ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ᴛʜɪs?

//alright, folks. Sally. Oogie. Hand 'em over.

There's a series of clicks, the rattle of bone under skin, as the halloween King stretches his arms above his head.

Preparations are already under way, for his very own night, his festival of ghouls and gore.

//honestly everything in this tall bitch cracks and pops when he moves, change my mind.

//Jack: breathes His bones: CKCKCKCKCCKC

//TELL ME I'M WRONG THO

He comes in two modes. Silent as the grave. Or makes enough damn noise for an entire crypt full of skeletons.

//his BONES are just so LOUD

It's unfortunate, really.

But, the clatter of joints clicking audibly does tend to add to the general atmosphere.

//things pop that definitely should not end its definitely spooky

//i speak entirely from experience too.

//i too click and pop and horrify people

//the run away when things start to dislocate