Group punishment sucked.

After all, putting on Rocky Horror last Halloween hadn't been their idea. It had been Mr. Schue's idea, and they had only gone alone with it because it was an infinitely preferable alternative to going through piles upon piles of dusty sheet music looking for that one elusive Journey song the teacher was convinced they hadn't sung yet.

So why was it that it was the members of New Directions, and not their coach, who were forced by Principal Figgins into helping with the first annual McKinley High Haunted House to "keep them out of trouble" during the Halloween season.

"Noah and Santana will sell tickets," a certain bossy diva insisted, balling her hands into fists on her hips.

"Dude, Berry, not cool!" the Mohawk-sporting jock protested. "I'm the scariest one here!"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Yes, Noah, that may be the case, but we all know what will happen if you are left alone in the dark with a bunch of girls. Or do we need Quinn to remind us?"

"You're making a big mistake," Puck insisted. "Who are you going to get to play the monsters? Hummel? We want to scare people, not subject them to monologues about fashion."

The dark-haired boy sitting next to the fashionista in question balled the one hand not currently occupied by his boyfriend's hand into an angry fist.

"Calm down, Blaine. He's twice your size, and he wasn't really being mean," Kurt soothed. Having just transferred away from zero-tolerance Dalton a few weeks ago, the dark-haired boy had not yet learned to tell the difference between bullying, harassment, teasing, and Puck just being Puck.

In a louder voice, the slender boy suggested. "How about Finn? His outfit is terrifying."

"Hey!" Kurt's stepbrother gasped. "Just because I don't own twenty Marc Jacobs catalogs…"

"…doesn't mean you have to let Brittany pick out your clothes for you."

"Ooh! Hey! That's a great idea! Finn, can I buy your clothes? I saw this cute ducky sweater the other day that would look super cute on you!" Brittany sat up straighter, clapping her hands together, the picture of childish glee. When the club ignored her, the blonde cheerleader pouted and made puppy eyes at Finn. Finally, when Santana promised that she would let her girlfriend buy her as many ducky sweaters as she wanted, Brittany was placated.

In the meantime, the club had finalized—or, that is, Rachel had finalized—their plans for the haunted house. "Puck and Santana will sell tickets. Artie and Tina will decorate the house. Mike, Blaine, Brittany, Finn, Lauren and I will be inside the house. Quinn and Mercedes will be in charge of advertising. And Sam and Kurt can be tour guides. Everyone, you need to come up with great costumes. People inside the house, make yours extra scary."

"OOH I CALL THE BOOGEYMAN!" Finn shouted. The club collectively rolled their eyes, but whether it was due to Rachel's bossiness or her boyfriend's cluelessness, nobody really knew.

"Brittany, macaroni and cheese isn't a monster," Quinn attempted to explain, her voice at its most calm and patronizing. On the inside, the former head cheerleader was steaming with frustration, and trying to resist biting the long fake nails of her vampire costume.

"Of course it is," the other blonde insisted. "It's so….orange. Food isn't supposed to be that orange."

"Leave it, Quinn. We don't have time. If we're lucky, people will think she's a garbage monster," Kurt suggested, stepping out from behind the cardboard door of the McKinley High Haunted House. The diva had wanted to make a really awesome costume, but after some pretty pitiful begging from Mr. Schue (who seemed still locked in his endless quest to woo Ms. Pillsbury) he had reluctantly agreed to once again don his Riff Raff costume from the previous Halloween.

"How's the inside of the house look?" Quinn asked her friend.

The fashionista shrugged. "Rachel is being…well, Rachel…again, and she won't let Sam and I inside. Something about wanting our reactions to be genuine." He turned his attention to Brittany. "Get inside, Britt. It's about to start."

He had to admit, the New Directions did work well together. The McKinley High gym had been transformed, in the space of three days, from an average athletic facility into a bizarrely constructed mansion. Paper-mache bats and lifelike cobwebs festooned the door, outside which a prisoner and a policewoman (AKA Puck and Santana) sold tickets beneath a sign that read TAKE FEAR IN A WHOLE NEW DIRECTION. (Kurt wasn't sure who had come up with the pun, but he REALLY wanted to punch them. Repeatedly.)

Within moment, the first "tourists," (a group of nervous-looking Cheerios), had been given their tickets and were escorted to the door by Frankenstein and his bride (AKA Artie and Tina).

Allowing the cardboard door to slide open just a crack, the tour guide peered out. "Hello," he drawled in his best Riff Raff voice. One girl screamed, but the others merely stared at him expectantly. "Are you ready to embark on a journey into your nightmares?" He also wanted to punch whoever had written the script the tour guides were supposed to follow (he strongly suspected it was Sam).

Initially, the tour went very well. The girls jumped as a giant spider-Mike descended from the ceiling and hovered inches above their heads. They cowered in fear as a werewolf who looked suspiciously like Lauren growled at them and rattled at the bars of her "cage". And they grabbed hands and clustered together as the eerie, tuneless singing of the Drowned Maiden (played by Rachel, of course) echoed through the haunted house.

While Finn's boogeyman and Brittany's macaroni and cheese got more laughs than screams, Kurt still felt the tour had been a success. The girls were white-faced and trembling as "Riff Raff" paused before the door of the final room.

"A long time ago," he intoned, not even glancing at his script (as any good actor should, he had memorized his lines weeks in advance). "this mansion was inhabited by a young boy, the son of a noble family. This boy was very beautiful, and it was to nobody's surprise that he became engaged to another desirable young person as soon as the two had turned eighteen. However, tragedy struck, and the night before he was to be married, the young nobleman was poisoned by a jealous scorned suitor. They say that his ghost still haunts the mansion to this day, waiting for his one true love to return so they can be together forever in the afterlife."

Having finished the overly cheesy monologue, Kurt went to open the door to the final room…

…but the door slammed open before he could so much as turn the knob. A pair of strong arms grabbed him around the waist, lifting his feet completely off the floor and carrying him to the center of the room.

"And indeed, his wait was not in vain, for his true love has returned to him, and we shall be together forever!" an extremely familiar voice exclaimed from somewhere over the tour guide's head.

He looked up and barely had the chance to realize that his captor wore an old-fashioned suit, had his hair slicked back and was wearing far too much white face powder before the "ghost" turned Kurt around and kissed him full on the lips. As if from far away, he could hear the squealing of the nearly forgotten Cheerios.

"Since when was that in the script?" he whispered into Blaine's ear as they broke apart.

His boyfriend laughed. "Turns out Sam has a thing for paranormal romance."