Happy Halloween! Ever wonder what’s on the mind of your favorite celebrities on this spooktacular day? Find out in today’s special edition of “They Said What?!”:

"If you’re pregnant, I wanna see that belly painted like a globe."

—T.I.
On his favorite Halloween tradition


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"A church and a mouse and a monster and a crab and a shoe and a lady."

—Channing Tatum
On what he’s dressing up as for Halloween


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"‘Last one to the bridge is a rotten egg!’ Jennifer bellowed as she burst through the front door and took off running down the road. Brenna knew she was going to lose this race. She had never been as fast as her sister. But that didn’t bother her one bit; it was enough to be included, to be allowed to run breathlessly behind her big sister, trying not to lose sight of her as she dashed headlong into the distance. ‘Wait up!’ Brenna yelled, knowing full well that it would not slow her sister down. Once she was off, she was off. And now she was sprinting into the woods. Pine needles nipped at her face as she dashed through the forest, trying unsuccessfully to keep up with her sister. They were weaving in and out of the trees, kicking up dirt in their wake, laughing and screaming intermittently and not knowing why. It was fun. It was terrifying. These were the sensations of fall. An explosion of mystery and excitement before the boredom of winter, when it would be too cold to play outside. ‘Slow down, Jen!’ Brenna pleaded between gasps of air. ‘What?’ Jennifer shouted back, somewhere up ahead. ‘I said, slow down!’ Jennifer laughed. ‘And lose the race? No way!’ And with that, she bounded ahead, fading into a distant, rustling blur in Brenna’s vision. ‘Jennifer!’ she shouted. But Jennifer was gone. Once again, Brenna had not been fast enough to keep up. And now, her sister was so far ahead that she couldn’t even see her. Suddenly, a side ache erupted in her abdomen, forcing her to walk. Brenna didn’t need to follow her sister to get to the bridge. They had raced there many times before. But it was getting dark now. Running through the woods with her sister was one thing—walking through the woods alone was another. Then, of course, there were the things you don’t notice about the woods when you’re running through them. The creaking of the tress. The strange shadows that seem ready to come to life at any moment and attack. The bugs. ‘Stupid side ache,’ she grumbled to herself. And then she heard it. A scream. That scream cured her side ache better than anything modern medicine could have offered. Immediately, she was sprinting at a breakneck pace toward the bridge. Had it been her sister’s scream? No way to know. All she knew was that she had to run. Faster than she ever had before. Run to the bridge. Find her sister. Get out of the woods. Her heart pounding like a machine gun, she tore through the shrubs and the leaves and the branches, and didn’t think twice about the sounds of the trees or the shadows or the bugs. If only she could run this fast more often, she thought. ‘Jennifer!’ she howled into the night. And then there she was, standing at the edge of the rope bridge that stretched across the river, staring at something in the middle of it. ‘Jennifer, why did you scream?’ she asked, emerging from the woods and approaching her sister, who appeared to be crying. ‘Jen, why are you crying? Tell me what’s wrong.’ The only other time she had seen her sister cry was when their father died. The sight of it made her sick to her stomach. ‘There,’ Jennifer said, pointing at something in the middle of the bridge. It was difficult to see through the fog, but Brenna could just make out what appeared to be a missing plank about halfway across. ‘I saw a girl,’ Jennifer said, approaching the gap. ‘A girl? What girl?’ Brenna asked. ‘It’s so sad,’ said Jennifer. ‘I watched her fall through. Down into the river. She must not have seen the gap.’ Brenna couldn’t believe what she was hearing. They looked down through the gap in the bridge at the water down below. ‘Well, is she all right?’ Brenna asked her sister. ‘Did you see what happened to her?’ Jennifer looked down into the river and pointed. ‘There!’ Jennifer ran back across the bridge, Brenna trailing her. They raced along the bank to a rocky and shallow part of the river and found the body of a young girl washed up on one of the rocks. They paused there for a moment, not knowing what to do. Brenna looked at Jennifer for guidance, but her sister just stood there. After a moment, Brenna knelt down and pulled the girl up on the bank. Then she turned her over to see her face. It was her sister’s face. This girl had her sister’s face. ‘Jennifer,’ she said, looking up at her sister, who was standing there looking somberly at the body that appeared to be her own. Suddenly, Jennifer dried her eyes and smiled. ‘Last one to the bridge is a rotten egg!’ She sprinted up the bank and across the bridge, disappearing into the fog. And something told Brenna that no matter how hard she tried to catch up with her, she never would. Not this time. Not ever."

—J. Cole
On the scariest story he’s ever heard