"What are you gonna do?" Jack asked between bouts of laughter. "We had a deal!"

He stood and leaned against the tree, smiling defiantly at the figure in front of him as his body shook with mirth. The splattered remains of the pumpkin patch covered the ground as the supernatural rift continued to swirl in the sky above them.

For a moment, the Reaper did nothing but glare, because as much as he hated it, Jack was right. They did have a deal all those centuries ago. He was immortal, which meant Grim could never collect.

All the same, he approached Jack.

The prankster continued to laugh, the feather in his cap almost shining scarlet in the combined light of the moon and eerie glow of the rift. Grim's eye sockets narrowed.

That feather.

That damn red feather.

It was what had gotten his scythe stolen from him not only back then, but tonight. He knew better than to trust Billy alone with his scythe, and had even hoped that telling Jack's story to the kids would've at least deterred the boy from going anywhere near that old house… but he had put too much faith in the little dullard. And it had nearly cost him his head.

Twice now, Jack had made an utter fool out of him, and he couldn't even drag his soul to the Underworld where it rightfully belonged after causing all this chaos in a single night.

All because of that feather.

That damn red feather.

A smile suddenly crossed his skeletal features as an idea bloomed in his skull.

Or maybe… he still could.

While Jack was still paralyzed with laughter, he reached and plucked the feather from his cap.

That feather got Grim into this mess the night he had come to reap Jack, maybe it could get him out… by giving the pumpkin-headed prankster a taste of his own medicine.

"I never go back on my word", Grim said with a smile as he began to tickle him, just as he had done to him so long ago. Jack's guffaws echoed through the night as he slowly began to ascend towards the rift.

"…But I think you've overstayed your welcome", Grim stated as we watched Jack floating upwards. Just because he wasn't dead, doesn't mean he couldn't still be banished to the Underworld. He stared up at the sky until he couldn't see Jack anymore, then used his powers to seal the rift for good. As he let out a breath of relief, his grip on the feather slackened.

"Well", he sighed. "That's that." And with that, he fully let go, letting the feather drift away in the night's chill breeze.

That damn red feather.