Gone Without a Treat

Sarah loved Halloween. For all of October, a bowl of candy sat at her desk—chocolate bars, gummy worms, lollipops, all the favorites. But as Halloween approached, something strange started happening. One morning, she filled her bowl—as the morning coffee brewed, she left to grab her usual cup—but when she came back, the bowl was empty. Strange. “Who ate all the candy?” she wondered, but dismissed it as office enthusiasm. The next day, she returned with twice her usual treats. She left for coffee, and when she returned, the bowl was empty again. “Who ate all the candy?” she said aloud this time. Her team looked up, but no one said a word. Annoyed, she murmured, “Must be some pig in the ranks” and went about her day.

A Frantic Obsession

The following morning—determined, she grabbed her coffee first. She returned then poured her bowl to the brim and immediately got to work. This time, no one came by to grab a snack. "Curious," she thought, staring at her screen. But when she glanced back at the bowl, it was empty! She screamed, “Who ate all the candy?! One of you is a pig! Oink, oink, oink!” “What candy?” her coworkers insisted. “The candy at my desk!” Surely, they were mocking her. Without an answer, she got back to her work.

The Unsettling Discovery

The next morning, Sarah was enraged, her eyes wild and intense. She set up her phone to record the candy bowl, filling it to overflow this time. As her coffee brewed, she thought, “I’ll catch the pig! Oink, oink, oink!” When she returned, the bowl was empty—again. She whispered to herself, “Who ate all the candy? Here piggy piggy.” Her hands trembled as she grabbed the phone, eagerly reviewing the footage. But halfway through, the video glitched, and when it resumed, the candy was gone. Her heart raced. She stormed into the office, and screeched, “Who ate all the candy?! Someone here’s a pig!” she shouted, pointing at her coworkers, her eyes frantic. “Oink, oink, oink!”

The Chilling Aftermath

Soon enough, security arrived. She swung wildly at them squealing, “Who ate the candy?! You’re all pigs! Oink, oink, oink! Oink, oink, oink!” as they dragged her out of the building. Later, security reviewed the tapes, determined to find answers. But all they found was morning after morning—Sarah approaching her desk, a wide glaze in her eyes, preparing the bowl each time, pouring nothing from an empty bag. Some say, if you listen closely, as the morning coffee bubbles in the break room—you can hear Sarah's whisper, “Oink, oink, oink...”