Martha had dealt with Weeping Angels. She could handle fog and Things That Went Bump In The Night, and general eerieness. It didn't mean she liked it entirely, per se, but she could handle it. Handle it in a smart way.

Handling it meant staying inside, for the most part, and consuming far too much sugar than what was good for her. In fact, she was probably no longer going to fit properly into her Storm costume (this year not the Halle Berry version but the one from the cartoon when she was a kid--tongue in cheek commentary that only she would understand, but she'd live with that).

She flipped the white hair of the wig back over her shoulder and leaned back in her chair, appraising everyone's costume and considering her next move. There was really no need to hurry.