Raising the Gruel Master
The usual Halloween crews are climbing out of their crypts.
Easing into the clearing of the grave of an ogre named Mips.
Is it the gruel monster? Asks Babboto, an October witch.
It is, agrees Pumpkin head, a dissimulated guy with a twitch.
The two-fanged cat is there, staring as we try to raise the ghoul.
You are never going to get it done, yell the bats. They think they rule.
A rustling on the grave produces the grim reaper who is the worst.
I know when I see the gruel monster that tomorrow is November first.
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