The afternoon sun dipped low as you leaned against Stu on the porch, his arm lazily draped around you. Sidney and Tatum lounged in the grass, while Billy leaned against the railing, watching as Randy ranted, his voice rising with frustration.

"Halloween is the superior slasher,"

Randy declared.

"Michael Myers is pure evil, an unstoppable force! Ghostface—" he gestured at Stu.

"—is just some guy tripping over furniture!"

Stu scoffed.

"Oh, please, Dipshit. Myers has zero personality. At least Ghostface has style, theatrics!"

"Yeah, because playing 20 Questions before murdering someone is so scary,"

Randy shot back.

Stu smirked, nudging you.

"Tell me, babe, would you rather be stalked by a mute in a jumpsuit or a charming, unpredictable slasher with a killer sense of humor?"

Billy chuckled.

"You just love playing Ghostface."

Stu gasped dramatically.

"Billy-boy, you wound me!"

Tatum snickered, tossing a chip at him.

"More like horror done over-the-top."

As Randy grumbled about.

"horror sacrilege,"

Stu pulled you closer, grinning as their playful bickering continued.