Meanwhile, back in the monster world, Ms. Glenda went to her homeroom to rearrange and clean things up. When she finished, she returned to her desk and sat down in gloom. Now that Glenda had given away all the spheres and wands she had, she felt the room was emptier without them. A shadow appeared at the door to inform her of something urgent that required her immediate attention, jolting her from her daydream thoughts.

“Huh? What?"

When the shadow walked into the room, light reflecting the helmet, it turned out to be the Counselor Clause.

“Miss Glenda, I’m afraid I have some terrible news!”

“Counselor Clause, what’s the matter?” Glenda asked in an alarming state.

“I have come with foreboding bad news.”

“Uh, yeah, I know. You stated that literally seconds ago.” Glenda glanced at him from over her metal-rimmed glasses.

“Oh, right, my bad.” Clause wrung his hands as he collected his thoughts.

His gray hair and thick mustache always appeared odd and out of place for someone dressed up as an astronaut, as upon his head he wore a glass bowl.

Glenda hardly noticed the contraption nowadays, but early in their relationship, she couldn’t help but laugh at the older man in the fishbowl. If he only knew how many times people made jokes at his expense.

“Can you hurry? I have stuff to do.” Glenda told him, hoping the message was not as awful as Clause led her to believe. She had had a busy morning and was exhausted from the day’s events. There was so much left to do to prepare; this was not a welcomed part of the plan.

“Ok, to put it simply: ‘It’ has returned.” That one word hung in the air like some foul odor. Glenda caught her breath.

“What?!” Glenda couldn’t believe her ears.

Could it be true? Clause had been wrong in the past but never about something this important. Then again, which piece of information could he be talking about still?

“You know, the Howler Coaster that opens every ten thousand moons?”

“Wasn’t it 9,352, though?” Glenda, always the teacher, couldn’t help but correct Clause’s inaccurate assessment of the time that passes between its last appearances. She felt embarrassed that she said it.

Oh, what pettiness, Glenda thought. Why do I always do that?

“Yeah, but ten thousand sounds more mystical, don’t you think?” Clause brought up with a smile.

He knew Glenda well and respected her over the years. He didn’t mind her correcting him on the statistical data. Clause tried to lighten the mood, but it was lost on Glenda as she processed the news brought before her.

“Oh no, if what you’re saying is true, then we need to leave right away!” Glenda forgot all about the sphere, wands, and kids for a moment. She grabbed her keys and leaped from the chair. There was no time to lose.