It happened that once, deep in the dead of Night, a Skellington sat up in his cosy grave, racking his brain over an Idea.
It was an amusing Idea, about showing Humans what Skellingtons get up to when Skellingtons are not lying around and being quiet.
However, there was something missing from this vision and it bothered the Skellington.
The Idea rattled about, unfinished, in his Skull. He pondered it long and, most importantly, he pondered it loudly.
Another Skellington, in a neighbouring grave, sat up and told the first Skellington what he thought would work.
The first Skellington’s eyeholes widened and he asked the second Skellington if he would like to go on an adventure.
Like most things involving these Skellingtons, this was not going to be a simple matter.
Humans would not trust them.
They needed a Human face and a Human for it to be attached to.
Humans do not trust detached Human faces.
This complication was solved by enlisting the aid of an actual Human, one known to them as Pieta.
Pieta was a Denizen of the Graveyard. There were many residents in the Graveyard but Pieta was definitely one of the freshest.
In no time at all, they were jumping around in front of hundreds of Humans, showing them exactly what Skellingtons could get up to.
Emphasis certainly fell heavily on their chief interest, being Surgery. On this occasion,
they indulged their interest by jousting each other
for the privilege of performing Brain Surgery on the loser.
They named themselves the Good Skellington and the Bad Skellington. Humans like names.
Pieta assisted by holding up signs, tottering gracefully and staring for long periods without blinking.
She also, very successfully, avoided being operated on.
Cerebral matter went astray, Humans were astounded and Pieta and the Skellingtons danced the Dance of Death.
When the Jousting and the Surgery was over, the three of them returned to their graves to get on with their mouldering.