Episode Details

Good evening, it's Spooky Boo coming to you from the lighthouse in Sandcastle, California. Right now I'm working on redecorating the lighthouse and it is coming along very well. Perhaps one day I'll be able to show it on the YouTube channel. For now, however, you'll just have to listen to the sound of my voice just like the residents of Sandcastle do every night on the KSND radio station. I'm like a Siren to their ships sailing into the night. Even the vampires and werewolves are tranced during the podcast.Tonight I have for you a story about what happens to little bullies on Halloween. Sometimes they get what is coming for them if they pick on the wrong person.This podcast would not be possible without the listeners and the Patreon members including 933TheVolt.com, BubbleSlayer, Ivy Iverson, madjoe, John Newby, Jenn Mischievous, and P. A. Nightmares. If you would like to support the Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time podcasts, visit www.scarystorytime.com/support to find links to our merchandise and other ways to keep the show on the air including sharing with your friends. Halloween is the perfect time to share a scary story with those friends of yours begging to be spooked! All of you are very much appreciated!Now let's begin...Bitter CandyWritten by KolpikThis Means WarBeing the new kid on the block, Ricky wanted so badly to be liked by the neighborhood kids, so he paid no heed to their snickering when they told him to fetch the kickball that had bounced over a neighbor's fence. He hadn't yet heard any of the stories of the creepy old man that had been traumatizing children for decades. He hopped the fence, spotted the ball, and rushed over to grab it. With his task half completed he triumphantly headed back towards his new friends.That was when a tall, willowy wisp of a man came around the side of the house with a garden hose. They stood there staring at one another like some standoff in an old western. In this scenario, Ricky was the young, still wet behind the ears cowpoke twirling his pistols around like they were toys. The elderly man was the wizened old sheriff that wouldn't hesitate to shoot down anybody that thought they could waltz into his town and cause a ruckus.Before the boy could pull his pistols, so to speak, the old man squeezed the trigger and blasted him in the crotch. He laughed wildly and blasted him in the face for good measure as Ricky reached for his tender little genitals. The damp little boy just stood there in shock with water dripping from his face and shorts. The old man dropped the hose and gave Ricky an annoyed look before leaning forward and uttering a quiet, raspy-voiced, "Boo."Ricky booked it for the fence and frantically scrambled over. He landed on the other side and ran as fast as he could. A moment later the kickball he had forgotten in his panic to escape bounced off the back of his head. He spun around to see the creepy old man towering over the fence. The crooked grin on his wrinkled old face told Ricky that he wasn't done with him yet. Then, he yelled the line that made the boy's life a living hell for the next few weeks. "Hey, you brats, stop pissing your pants in my yard."The kids called him "Trickle Rickle" after that. For the next month, the little boy wrestled for control of his emotions. The neighborhood kids were brutal with their name-calling, but the mean old man down the street affected him ten-fold simply by sitting on his porch day in and day out, glaring out into the neighborhood. Every time Ricky pedaled past the wicked old man's house that grit worn face would turn toward him and stare with eyes like two burning coals.The solution to both of his problems came to him one day