The cemetery was expansive and hilly, but Kacey had been this way once before—in her dream. She and Emma made their way through the rolling hills and unending rows of headstones for what felt like ages before they finally reached Meat Loaf's aboveground mausoleum, standing over the various lesser dead people nearby like a dark Goliath.

"Look at that," Emma said, opening the iron gate and peering inside. "There's even a statue of Meat Loaf."

There sure was. He was cast in bronze and nearly eight feet tall, screeching into a lifted microphone, his great leonine features twisted with passion. The statue's width was nearly the same as its height, for the sculptor had taken great care to accurately depict Meat Loaf's massive abdomen.

"This way," Kacey said. She used the shovel to smash an old padlock off a small door partially hidden behind the statue. And when she pushed it open, a staircase stretched down into the darkness before them.

"We can't go down there," Emma said. "What if there's ghosts?"

"But there's already ghosts."

"Oh yeah," Emma realized. "Besides, those insubstantial mother fuckers can barely even interact with reality, unlike us."

They made their way down, with Kacey leading. The typewriter had begun to click at irregular intervals inside her D.A.R.E. duffel bag, as if it were angry or excited. The staircase wound down and down and down, turning, stopping occasionally and giving way to vast straightaways or even dark stone antechambers beneath the earth. It was here that Emma's smoking habit came in handy, since she could light their way with the glowing red tips of her cigarettes.

"I'm up to one-twentieth of a pack per day," she announced proudly as she popped one between her lips and spun the wheel of her Zippo. The Zippo was another item that had come from Emma's aunt, a woman whose influence was dubiously positive at best.

After a mile or so of subterranean stairways and tunnels, they emerged in a grandiose cathedral that rang with heavy silence. Lit candles burned along every wall and in a circle around the altar at the front.

Atop the altar was an open coffin.

"Meat?" Emma called. Her voice echoed and echoed. "We brought back your stupid typewriter. Where do you want it?"

"Heeeereee," a scrabbling whisper called from the coffin.

Kasey and Emma walked cautiously between the pews. Each girl had her weapon raised over one shoulder. Any ghost, zombie, skeleton, or other stereotypical cemetery bad guy daring to assault them would end up with a chest cavity full of mourning equipment for its trouble. When they reached the coffin, which was too high up to peer into, Kasey slung the duffel bag off her shoulder and unzipped it. The typewriter was going nuts, clicking and ticking and impotently trying to strike random letters onto a page that wasn't there. She held it in her arms and looked up.

A clawed, furry hand appeared over the coffin's edge, and then another. The thing that heaved itself to a sitting position to receive the typewriter looked like Meat Loaf, only mixed with a werewolf.

Emma laughed and blew smoke at the apparition. "It's Meat Loaf from the 'I'd Do Anything for Love' video! That's an awesome little touch."

"Typewriter," Meat Loaf growled longingly, holding out his paws.

"Here you go, champ," Kasey said, handing it up to him. "By the way, I used up most of the white ribbon. Sorry about that."

Meat Loaf scowled.

"Shit, you're lucky we brought it back at all," she scolded. "We're only twelve, you know. We had to get a ride here."

Meat Loaf took the typewriter down into his coffin and shut the lid with one clawed hand. After a moment, the sound of chattering keys could be heard from inside.

"Aww," Emma said, still smiling. "All the poor guy wanted to do was type."

"It is pretty cute that he started typing right away," Kacey agreed. She zipped the duffel bag, and then the two girls made their way out of the cathedral and back up to the cemetery.

"Did you girls have a fun little time out there?" Kacey's mom asked as Kacey and Emma climbed into the back seats and stripped off their ski masks.

"We sure did!" Emma exclaimed.

"I had a good time, too," Kacey's mom said dreamily. "In fact, I'm still having one." She backed the car out and weaved at an abnormally slow speed down the street toward town.

The nightmare was finally over.

The scene fades to black, and the Midnight Society and BIDEN return. The campfire has burned itself down to cinders. The remaining kids look around at one another, grinning widely.

BIDEN: The end.

TUCKER: Wow, great story, Joey! Really scary!

GARY: Yeah, good one, Joey!

Suddenly, a slow clapping can be heard. The children look up in surprise at the path that leads into their clearing, and there stands FRANK, dressed in a striped prison uniform, complete with the little hat. FRANK gives four or five slow, sarcastic claps and then crosses his arms over his chest.

FRANK: I could've told a better story than that with one vocal cord tied behind my back.

ERIC: Frank! We thought you were in prison!

FRANK: I was, pee brain! But I escaped. They were transporting me to a different prison for even bigger, badder boys, when the truck ran over a banana peel and crashed. We all escaped into the woods.

BIDEN: Well, get the hell out of here, junior. Your spot's mine now.

FRANK: Not if I can help it!

FRANK dashes forward and gets BIDEN in a painful headlock. The two wrestle and grunt for a period of several seconds before BIDEN, being a grown adult, easily gains the upper hand and starts beating the hell out of FRANK.

GARY: Go, Joey! Kick his ass!

TUCKER: Yeah! Oh! Oh, yeah! Great! Hit him again!

FRANK has been pinned to the ground under one of BIDEN's knees. FRANK is crying and a long runner of snot has run from his nose into the dirt.

BIDEN: You little kids are nothing but trouble. Hell, I've got to work in the morning. What am I even doing out here in the goddamn woods?

BIDEN wanders off down the path looking tired and confused. FRANK, now the victor by default, has apparently reclaimed his place in the Midnight Society. He sits down in his rock chair and wipes his face with one hand.

GARY (pouring the bucket of water on the fire): Well, welcome back, Frank. I guess. By the way, Joey killed off Dr. Vink in his story, so we can't ever use him again.

FRANK (outraged): What!

GARY: Yeah, it's canon now. Sorry.

A new tear slips down FRANK's cheek. He had loved Dr. Vink like the father he'd never had. But the fire is out, the tale has been told, and the kids all walk arm in arm down the path together, ready to face whatever darkness may come. The scene fades to black, and then the credits song begins to blast over a still shot of Vice Principal Sardo screaming into his telephone as the credits roll.