One windy October night, the Rugrats followed a trail of candy corn that Angelica had scattered, right through the rusty gates of French’s Cemetery. The crooked headstones leaned at odd angles, their carved names so worn down they looked like secret codes. Chuckie whispered, “M-maybe we should go back,” but Tommy held up his trusty screwdriver like a sword and said, “No! Reptar’s in there, and we gotta save him!”
They tiptoed past rows of headstones, some cracked, some chipped, and some with strange carvings of flowers and swirls. The ground seemed to sigh beneath them, as if the coffins underneath were shifting in their sleep. Suddenly, the dirt split open with a loud *CRUNCH*—and out popped Reptar, covered in cobwebs and leaves! The babies shrieked, but then Reptar hiccupped, sending dust and worms flying everywhere. Phil and Lil laughed, “He’s burpin’ up the cemetery!”
Soon, the headstones began to rattle, and the earth gave little groans. But instead of anything scary crawling out, the noises turned into silly squeaks and creaks, almost like squeaky toys. Reptar roared, stomping in rhythm, and the Rugrats followed along in a clumsy parade. Under the full moon, French’s Cemetery wasn’t so scary after all—it was a stompy, silly playground where even the shadows couldn’t stop giggling.