28% off
Motion, sound and a build that survives October outdoors.
See it in the scene: The Front Lawn →
Sound-activated, plug-in, outdoor
A hooded skeleton reaper, seven feet of it, rib cage showing through a shredded black shroud, red eyes, a spare skull in the off hand. It stands still until it hears someone coming up the walk, then it moves and talks. Plugs into a regular 120V outlet and holds the front lawn from the first of October to the last.
The reaper's own, and a matching pair on the skull it carries in its free hand. Two faces pointed at whoever comes up the walk, one under the hood and one held out at chest height, so the kids get looked at twice before they decide whether to keep going.
Black robe under layers of torn rust-brown gauze, a rope cinched at the waist, the hem already in ribbons. That's the look you'd normally get with scissors and a bucket of tea on a Saturday. Here it comes out of the box that way.
Skull, scythe, red eyes, no gore. It's the reaper from the picture book, not the one from the R-rated movie. The four-year-olds hesitate, the nine-year-olds dare each other, and everybody still makes it to the door for candy.
Plug it in at dusk and park it by the walk. Every group that talks on the way up sets it off, and you don't have to touch it all night. On November 1 it unplugs, folds down flat, and goes back in the tote next to the fog machine. Same reaper, same spot, next year.