Hallowe'en Jokes!

So a ghost walks into a bar. No one notices. There used to be a door there before the fire. Two patrons feel an uncomfortable chill.

A mummy walks into a bar. His mummification wasn't intentional. His car went off the road downstream from a drain cleaner plant and he was preserved in a band tee shirt and his favorite pair of jeans. And so he's trying to ask to use the phone, but the bartender just shifts his jaw and says "we don't serve mummies here." The mummy invokes an ancient curse. Later that night, the bartender finds his tires have been slashed.

This one time, a gill-man creature is buying drinks for a couple third year co-eds from the nearby college when they casually mention their boyfriends. Unphased, he winks and waggles his gills at them. He shares a cab ride home with the dark-haired one. They kiss awkwardly in the foyer and he promises himself he's going to call her tomorrow.

An animated corpse was buried under a bar, but the foundation was too firm and he couldn't dig his way to freedom.

A werewolf stumbles into a bar. She has eaten a child this very night. Upon waking the next morning, her eyes will feel full of sand and she will become sick somewhere in her apartment. In her heart, she feels there's no way to continue this awful half existence. Her soul wears away like the inside of an anthill. The worse her condition becomes, the more she secretly begins to relish the sensation. Tonight, in the bar, she feels uninhibited. Finishing her Tokyo tea, she moves to the dance floor and excitedly covers it in claw marks.

A zombie walks into a bar. Every person she kills gets up and kills. The people they kill get up and kill.

A psycho killer walks into a bar. He sets his slaughterhouse hammer and meathook on the bar and orders a gin and tonic. The bartender asks for ID and the psycho killer gives him a driver license. The blood-stained burlap sack with eye-holes on the ID looks slightly different than the blood-stained burlap sack with eye-holes currently asking for a gin and tonic. The bartender arches an eyebrow and asks "are you sure this is you?" The psycho killer grins amiably from behind his makeshift mask and says "that was back when I had the mustache."

A vampire is bumming smokes in this bar's parking lot, when... ha ha. Okay. You got me. There's no such thing as vampires.