Citadel of Pails

I journeyed down the brick sidewalk until an undeniable citadel of orange arrested my progress outside the corner storefront. There, stacked upon a low wooden pallet, rested a towering pyramid of plastic jack-o'-lantern buckets, their black smiles frozen in joyous revelry. Leaning upon my gnarled staff, I extended my skeletal fingers to tap the rim of the lowest vessel. A hollow, resonant clatter rippled upward, setting the entire assembly shivering like an autumn chorus. Reaching beneath my tattered robe, I produced a curled copper leaf and solemnly dropped it into the open crown of the nearest pail—the first collected tribute of the day. A low, knowing chuckle rumbled beneath my cowl; the town stands ready.