Halloween commercial scripts

Fun size is a lie. There is nothing fun about one bite. Mallowmoon full-size bars. Chocolate, caramel, and a marshmallow middle. This Halloween, be the good house. Mallowmoon.

Every street has one house the kids talk about all year. Be that house. Big bags of candy are two for nine dollars at Parkhurst Market, through Friday. Parkhurst Market. Stock up before the doorbell rings.

Blackthorn Manor opens its doors for thirteen nights this October. Twelve rooms. One way out. Everyone who goes in comes back. Mostly. Blackthorn Manor. Tickets at the gate.

Eight acres of corn. Two miles of path. One exit. The Tuckaway Acres corn maze is open every weekend in October. Nobody has seen Greg since Saturday. Tuckaway Acres. Bring a friend. Keep track of him.

This Halloween, your dog could be a taco. A pumpkin. A very small sheriff. Pet costumes in every size are in now at Wagmore Pet Supply. Wagmore. He is going to hate it. You are going to love it.

The only thing scary at Lakeside Motors is how good these deals are! Every truck on the lot is marked down through October thirty-first. Lakeside Motors. No tricks. Just trucks.

We're not going to tell you to skip the candy. We're dentists, not monsters. Enjoy every piece. Then come see us. Brightwater Family Dental. We'll see you in November.

The kids got candy. You walked two miles in the cold holding a plastic pumpkin. You've earned a pizza. Slice Harbor delivers until midnight on Halloween. Two large pies, nineteen ninety-nine.

Wear your costume. Bring a bag. Meet a bat. Boo at the Zoo is back at Maple Ridge Zoo, with a trick-or-treat trail past every animal. The last two weekends in October. Kids in costume get in free.

No costume? You have a face. The Velvet Hex Halloween palette has twelve shades, from bone white to bruise purple. Ten minutes. One mirror. Done. Velvet Hex. Be something tonight.

It's Halloween. Your doorbell is about to ring forty times. The Porchlight video doorbell shows you who's there. Tonight, it's a very short vampire. Porchlight. Know before you open.

A prom dress from 1994. A trench coat. One hard hat. That's three costumes, and it's under twenty dollars. Second Story Thrift. Your Halloween is already hanging on our racks.

By day, Thunder Point Park is roller coasters, cotton candy and a very friendly beaver mascot. But when the sun goes down in October, the lights go out. Five haunted houses. Three scare zones. Coasters in total darkness. And something has happened to the beaver. Fright Nights at Thunder Point Park. Fridays and Saturdays through Halloween. Not recommended for kids under twelve. The cotton candy is still great.

Dooley's Public House is having a Halloween costume contest, and we take it very seriously. First prize is five hundred dollars. Second prize is a bar tab. Third prize is our respect. Last year a man came as a fridge. He could not sit down all night. He won. Saturday the thirty-first, nine o'clock. Live music, no cover in costume. Dooley's. Come as you aren't.

There's a house on Linden Street where the porch light comes on every night at nine. Nobody has lived there since 1962. Some folks say it's the wiring. I'll let you decide. Old Harbor Ghost Walks leave from the town square every evening in October. Ninety minutes, eleven stops, and one story I only tell after dark. Old Harbor Ghost Walks. Wear good shoes.

Looking for a safe place to trick-or-treat this year? Come to Trunk or Treat at the Fairmont Community Center. Forty decorated cars, one parking lot, and more candy than any child should have. It's Friday, October thirtieth, from five to eight. It's free. All ages are welcome, and costumes are encouraged for grown-ups too. Trunk or Treat at Fairmont. Bring a bag. We'll fill it.

You said you were over pumpkin spice. You said it out loud, in public, with confidence. And yet here you are. The Kettle and Crow Midnight Pumpkin Latte has real pumpkin, dark espresso and a little black cocoa on top. We made it for people who say they're over pumpkin spice. It's really good. Kettle and Crow. Through October thirty-first, or until you stop pretending.

You offered to host the Halloween party. That was three weeks ago. It is now Thursday. Don't panic. Go to Confetti Depot. Spider webs and string lights. Plates and cups. A fog machine and a playlist. One box has all of it, for thirty-nine dollars. You just have to open the door. Confetti Depot. The party is in aisle one.

On Halloween night, there will be more kids on our streets than on any other night of the year. So here are three small things. If you're walking, carry a light and stay on the sidewalk. If your costume has a mask, lift it to cross the street. And if you're driving between five and nine, slow down. Slow down. A message from Riverbend Police and Fire. Have a safe Halloween.

Good evening. You and five friends have sixty minutes. The door behind you is locked. The lamp has about an hour of oil. And the previous owner of this cellar left some rather detailed notes. Most groups need a hint. Some need two. The Cellar, a Halloween escape room at Lockwood and Key. Booking now through November first. Do bring someone clever.

Every October, I put ghost cookies in the front window. I've done it for twenty-six years. They're sugar cookies with white icing and two little chocolate eyes. Nothing fancy. But I have customers who came in as kids and now bring their own. We also do pumpkin bread, caramel apples and a chocolate cake shaped like a cauldron. Rosalind's Bakery. Order by Wednesday for Halloween.

It is nine o'clock on October thirtieth, and my daughter has just told me she no longer wants to be a princess. She has been a princess since August. We own the dress. We own the shoes. There is a wand. She would now like to be a banana. I asked her why. She said, and I'm quoting, 'Because bananas are funny.' I could not argue with that. So here is what I know. Hartwell's is open until eleven. The costume aisle still has every size. And there is, in fact, a banana. There's also a shark, a slice of pizza, an astronaut and something called a spooky avocado, which I did not ask about. Kids' costumes start at fourteen ninety-nine. Face paint, candy bags and glow sticks are all in the same aisle, so you only have to make one trip. My daughter is going to be a banana. I'm told the princess dress will be 'for later.' Hartwell's. Open late all Halloween week.

I want to be clear that it started small. One pumpkin. A string of orange lights. Then I was at Brennan's Hardware picking up furnace filters, and they had a twelve-foot skeleton by the door. I don't know if you've ever stood next to a twelve-foot skeleton. It changes a man. So now I have the skeleton. I have forty feet of purple lights and an outdoor timer. I have two fog machines, because one fog machine does not cover a corner lot. I have a motion sensor that makes the mailbox scream. My wife says it's too much. It is not too much. Brennan's has everything you need to be the house on the corner. Lights, extension cords, stakes, timers and, yes, the skeleton. They'll even help you load it. Brennan's Hardware. Family owned since 1958. Ask for the skeleton by name. His name is Dennis.

On Halloween, about three hundred kids knock on the door of the Northside Food Pantry. We give them candy, like everybody else on the block. We decorate. One of our volunteers dresses as a carrot every single year, and nobody knows why. It's one of my favorite nights. Some of those kids come back on Monday with their parents. Not for candy. For groceries. That's what we do the other three hundred and sixty-four days. We hand out food to about nine hundred families in this neighborhood, and October is when our shelves start to run low. So this Halloween, we're asking for one small thing. When you buy a bag of candy, buy a jar of peanut butter too. Drop it in the orange bin at any Northside grocery store, any day through November seventh. One jar. That's it. The Northside Food Pantry. We'll take care of the candy. Help us with the rest.

Every year you carve a pumpkin with a steak knife and a soup spoon. Every year it comes out looking surprised. The Gourdsmith carving kit has six real tools and twelve patterns. Gourdsmith. This year, make a face on purpose.

You watched the scary movie. It's two in the morning. The closet door is open. A little. We can't help with the closet. We can help with the bed. Featherfall Sleep Shop. Every mattress, twenty percent off through Halloween.

You said one piece of candy. That was nine pieces ago. We're not judging. We have a bowl at the front desk. Join Ironbird Gym in November and your first month is one dollar. Ironbird. Bring the wrappers. We don't ask.

In every scary movie, somebody's phone has no signal. That's the whole movie. One bar, and everybody's home by nine. Farbell Mobile. Coverage in the woods, the basement and the cabin by the lake. Farbell. Sorry about the plot.

Our new candle is called Haunted Library. It smells like old paper, wood smoke and one unexplained cold spot. We don't know how we did the cold spot. Emberlow Candle Company. Halloween scents, in store now.

The scariest thing in your yard is not the plastic skeleton. It's the leaves. There are so many leaves. Greenstride Lawn Crew does a full fall cleanup in one visit, starting at ninety-nine dollars. Greenstride. The skeleton can stay.

Nothing on Halloween is scarier than bangs you cut yourself at midnight. Honey, put the scissors down. Copper Comb Salon takes walk-ins all Halloween week. Costume hair, color and repairs. Copper Comb. We won't ask what happened.

This is Ridge Ninety-Eight Five. Sometime this hour, you're going to hear a wolf howl. When you do, be caller thirteen and win five hundred dollars. If you hear a wolf and the radio's off, that's a different problem.

Starling Cinemas presents the All-Night Fright Marathon. Five scary movies, from eight at night until the sun comes up. There is a creature. There is a cabin. There is a doll that should not be in that chair. Tickets are twenty-five dollars, and that includes unlimited popcorn and coffee. Bring a blanket. Bring a friend who screams. We keep the lobby lights on, in case you need a minute. Friday, October thirtieth. Starling Cinemas.

I'll be honest with you. Nobody drives forty minutes for the apples. They come for the cider donuts. We make them every morning in October, and we put them out warm. By noon on a Saturday, there's a line past the barn. We also have fresh-pressed cider, eleven kinds of apples and a scarecrow contest the kids judge themselves. They are harsh. Pennyfield Orchard. Open daily through Halloween. Come early. I mean that.

Your son has announced that he will be a volcano for Halloween. Not a store-bought volcano. A real one. With lava. You have four days, no pattern and a strong feeling about cardboard. Thimble and Twine has the felt, the red tissue paper, the battery lights and the hot glue. We also have a staff member named Carol who has built two volcanoes and a working lighthouse. Thimble and Twine. All costume supplies are thirty percent off this week.

This Thursday is Not Too Scary Story Night at the Elmwood Public Library. We turn the lights down. Not off. Down. There will be a story about a ghost who is afraid of children, and one about a witch who can't find her other sock. Nobody gets eaten. We checked. It's for ages four to eight, it starts at six thirty, and it's free. Pajamas are welcome. The Elmwood Public Library. The only thing we haunt is the returns desk.

Halloween has a before and an after. Pellam's Pharmacy has an aisle for both. Before: glow sticks, reflective tape, flashlight batteries and face paint that actually washes off. After: makeup remover, bandages for the new-shoe blisters, and something gentle for a stomach that met a pillowcase full of chocolate. We've seen it all. We've been on this corner for thirty years. Pellam's Pharmacy. Open until ten on Halloween night.

Every Halloween, Quickmend Urgent Care sees the same three things. A twisted ankle from a costume that was too long. A bumped head from a mask with no eye holes. And one grown man who tried to jump a hedge in a cape. It is always the cape. We're open until midnight on October thirty-first, no appointment needed. So hem the costume, cut the eye holes bigger and walk around the hedge. Quickmend Urgent Care. Here if you need us.

You bought the house in April. Lovely place. Big staircase. Very reasonable price. Nobody mentioned the piano. You don't own a piano. Two Oaks Moving can have you packed, loaded and out by Friday. We wrap the furniture, we carry the boxes, and we do not ask why you're leaving in such a hurry. We've moved four families out of that street this October. Nice people. Very pale. Two Oaks Moving. Call for a free quote.

Right. You're dressed as a pirate. It's one in the morning, and you've had a lovely night. A pirate should not be driving. Neither should a zombie, a disco ball or whatever your mate Kev is meant to be. Open the Lanternway app and a driver will be with you in minutes. Halloween night, every ride home is half price until three. Leave the car. Keep the hat. Lanternway Rides. Everybody gets home.

Do you have a small ghost at home with too much energy? Bring them to the Skeleton Shuffle at Tiptoe Dance Studio. It's a Halloween dance party for ages three to ten. We'll teach the zombie walk, the bat flap and a move called the wobbly pumpkin. Most of our dancers fall over on purpose. Saturday, October twenty-fourth, two to four. Ten dollars a dancer. Costumes on, tap shoes optional. Tiptoe Dance Studio. We'll wear them out for you.

Guests at the Mossgrave Hotel occasionally report a knocking in room fourteen. We have looked into it. It is the radiator. It is almost certainly the radiator. This October, join us for the Haunted Weekend. Two nights, a candlelit dinner, a tour of the old wing and a full breakfast for those who slept. From two hundred and forty dollars per couple. Room fourteen is available on request. It usually is. The Mossgrave Hotel. Checkout is at eleven.

Every fall, somebody walks into Crooked Fence Brewing and asks if our pumpkin ale has real pumpkin in it. Yes. It has four hundred pounds of real pumpkin in it. I know, because I roasted them. Myself. In an oven that fits six at a time. I did the math on that later. I don't recommend doing the math. We call it Last Lantern. It's a pumpkin ale with cinnamon, a little ginger and brown sugar, and it tastes like the last warm afternoon in October. We make one batch a year. When it's gone, it's gone, and then people get upset with me personally. So here's my advice. Come by the taproom this weekend. We've got a fire pit, a food truck and a man with a banjo who takes requests, within reason. Last Lantern pumpkin ale, from Crooked Fence Brewing. On tap and in cans through Halloween. Must be twenty-one or older. Please drink responsibly.

Hi. I'm the parent who said yes to running the Juniper Hill Elementary Halloween Carnival. I said yes in May. May is a very easy month to say yes in. So here is what forty volunteers and one very long extension cord have built for you. There's a haunted hallway, designed by the fifth grade. It is mostly streamers, and it is still more frightening than I expected. There's a cake walk, a ring toss, a pumpkin bowling lane and a booth where you can throw a wet sponge at the principal. He volunteered. I want that on the record. It's Friday, October twenty-third, from five to eight in the school gym. Tickets are fifty cents each, or twenty-five for ten dollars. Every dollar goes to the library. Last year we bought six hundred new books. This year we would like shelves to put them on. The Juniper Hill Halloween Carnival. Come hungry. Bring quarters. Aim for the principal.

Turn off the lights. No, go on. I'll wait. Good. Now listen. In the town of Harrow Bay, the radio station went off the air in 1974. The tower is still there. The building is locked. And every night in October, at eleven minutes past eleven, somebody reads the weather. It is never tonight's weather. The Late Forecast is a new audio drama in ten parts, from Lamplit Audio. No pictures. No screen. Just a voice, a storm and a town that would rather you didn't ask. You can listen in the car. You can listen on a walk. We would suggest that you not listen alone in a house that makes noises, but people do, and they write to us about it. The letters are very polite. The handwriting is not steady. The Late Forecast. All ten episodes, free, starting October first, wherever you get your podcasts. From Lamplit Audio. You can turn the lights back on now. If they'll come on.

The Dogear Halloween Book Fair is coming to your child's school, and we would like to prepare you. Your child will come home with a list. The list will have nine books on it. One of them will be about a skeleton who plays the trombone. You will say, 'Pick two.' Your child will pick five. This is normal. Here's the good news. Every book at the fair is sorted by how scary it is. One pumpkin means not scary at all. Two pumpkins means a little shivery. Three pumpkins means read it with a grown-up, preferably one who is brave. Picture books start at four dollars. Chapter books start at six. And every book you buy sends one free book to a classroom that needs it. So say yes to the trombone skeleton. It's reading. You're allowed to give in. The Dogear Halloween Book Fair. All this week in the school library.

I have been a children's photographer for eleven years. I have photographed newborns, toddlers and a set of triplets who did not agree on anything. None of that prepared me for Halloween. Last year I photographed a dinosaur who refused to roar. A ladybug who cried because her brother was also a ladybug. And a four-year-old dressed as a tax accountant, who sat perfectly still and asked how long this would take. Best picture I took all year. Here's the thing. The costume lasts one night. In a week it's in a bag in the closet, and next October it won't fit. So bring them to Snapdragon Portrait Studio. Halloween mini sessions are fifteen minutes and forty-five dollars. You get five edited photos by email the same week. Pets are welcome. Siblings are welcome, even the ones dressed the same. Snapdragon Portrait Studio. Booking now through October thirtieth. The dinosaur did roar, by the way. Right after we finished.

People think a florist has nothing to do in October. Just mums. Those people have not met my Halloween customers. There's a woman who orders a wreath made entirely of dried thistles, and she is the most cheerful person I know. There's a boy of nine who buys one orange lily for his teacher, because she let him be a bat in the school play. And there's Mister Doyle. Every year, on the thirty-first, Mister Doyle comes in for a dozen roses, as dark as we can get them. They're for his wife. He says she's a witch. He says it very fondly. They've been married forty-one years. I've stopped asking questions. So if you'd like something for your table, your door or your own particular witch, come and see us at Fernsby Flowers. We have deep red dahlias, orange lilies and roses nearly as dark as Mister Doyle likes them. Halloween arrangements from thirty-five dollars. Fernsby Flowers. Bring her something dark.