Friday Night Funkin:Super Secret Agency.

through elaborate, spooky MAZES. A stage is set up for a COSTUME CONTEST, dazzling with spotlights. Elsewhere, people play CARNIVAL GAMES and dance to a loud, thumping beat. A large crowd gathers around a raised RAP BATTLE STAGE. Two local performers are going head-to-head, spitting fierce bars. The crowd cheers wildly. Boyfriend and Girlfriend,not yet in costume,are weaving through the crowd, holding hands. Pico is a few steps behind them, eating a candied apple.

BF:Man,this party is banger status, GF! Beats are clean! Vibes are immaculate. Beep bo bop!

GF:It really is, BF. Best Halloween ever. Hope nothing ruins it.

Pico looks around suspiciously, adjusting his orange hair.

Pico:"Nothing ruins it." That's usually our cue, isn't it? My hero sense is tingling.

Suddenly, a brilliant, pulsating light flares up from a nearby cluster of trees. It's a signature, multicolored glow that catches the attention of those around them. People point,murmuring.

Boyfriend glances at Girlfriend and Pico. They share a knowing look.

BF:Time to suit up,team.

The trio slips away into the shadows of the maze entrance.

A nondescript alleyway borders the park,dark and empty save for a few dumpsters. This is their meeting point. A hidden panel in the brick wall slides open, revealing a glowing cache of high-tech gear. Boyfriend pulls on a blue and red streamlined suit, his microphone transforming into a powerful comm unit. Girlfriend simple red dress morphs into a sleek, armored outfit, her large speakers lighting up with power indicators. Pico dons tactical gear over his casual clothes, his microphones now sleek, futuristic devices.

As they suit up, their individual lights—Boyfriend's vibrant blue, Girlfriend's energetic red, and Pico's sharp neon green—combine to form a dazzling beacon visible even above the park's light pollution. The heroes look at each other.

Green note/Pico:Alright,coms check. Status report,Crimson?

Crimson Beat/GF:All systems green. Park perimeter stable. High energy readings from the main stage, purely recreational... for now.

Blueball/BF:Let's fly high and keep the party vibes pure. Bap skedaddle bop!

They activate their flight tech, their combined light flares one last time, and they shoot up above the rooftops. The three heroes patrol the air above the park. They see everything: the dance floor grooving, the kids trick-or-treating, the intricate maze patterns.

Green Echo/Pico:Seriously, it’s too quiet. Best Halloween ever and zero trouble? I'm disappointed.

Crimson Beat/GF:Patience,Pico. Our presence is likely a deterrent.

Blueball/BF:Everything's smooth sailing. Maybe Trouble took the night off?

Suddenly, the music from the main dance stage cuts out abruptly, replaced by a harsh, ear-splitting STATIC. Colored lights flicker erratically. Partygoers start looking around in confusion and worry. A distorted voice crackles over every speaker in the park.

"Having fun? Not for long."

Green Echo/Pico:Called it.

Crimson Beat/GF:Energy spike detected at the main stage soundboard! Something is corrupting the sound system.

Blueball/BF:Trouble’s trying to kill the vibe! Not on our watch!

The trio lands softly behind the stage, out of sight of most of the crowd. The static is louder here. A shadowy figure is messing with the massive sound mixing console, infusing it with dark, glitchy energy.

Blueball/BF:Let's hit 'em with a vocal knockout.

The figure turns, startled. It's a glitch-monster made of pure noise.

Trouble:You three again!

Green Echo/Pico:You know the drill, pal. When the beats drop,you gotta stop!

Girlfriend takes point at a spare mixing desk, her fingers flying across the controls, generating a clean, powerful counter-beat. Boyfriend jumps onto the stage apron, microphone in hand,laying down powerful,protective rap verses.