When evenings chill and darkness falls,
The spectre of the SCITch Show calls;
On Hallow’s Eve, we rise again —
The witching hour, 8PM.
A slate of sketches, all brand-new,
Your frightening friends will bring to you!
You’ll shriek and cackle with delight,
And with some luck… you’ll last the night.
But now this gimmick’s worn too thin,
And this line doesn’t even rhyme.
A fearful feeling fills the air —
Come and join us… if you dare!