Last night was Halloween and if you’re like us, you spent the night shouting obscenities from your basement apartment window, dressed in a bathrobe and drinking Kahlua and Kool-Aid. But other people were dressed, upstairs, handing out candy to children as they frolicked through the neighborhood. And while a good percentage of these children were probably well-adjusted, mostly normal kids in nice costumes, the rest were the sorts of ne’re-do-wells who don’t wipe properly and will throw eggs at your window if you hand out crap like candy corn. Or, more specifically, these kids;
Lazy Teens – Every neighborhood has at least one 16 year old who will wrap a bandana around his face and call it a costume before heading out with a slightly yellowed pillow case to collect your goodies. If he can’t find a bandana you can be fairly certain he’ll show up in one of these alternate yet no less lazy;
• Sheet ghost
• Bacon-ensconced Lady Gaga
• Backwards man in backwards clothes
• KFC bucket on the head
• Bathrobe Arthur Dent
• Toilet paper mummy
• Trench coat FBI agent/sex offender
• Guy with condom on his head
You really shouldn’t give this kid candy, because he’s an asshole. The rest of his night is going to consist of another hour of candy mooching, then eating half of it when he gets home before jerking off to internet porn and being sullen. Hopefully you didn’t contribute to that.
The Neurotic – Nothing is more cringe-inducing than being forced to spend a few moments at your door with the neighborhood child who wants to see every piece of candy before you put it in their bag to make sure it’s free from nuts, gluten, trans fats, sodium, mercury, opium, needles, semen and freeze-dried rat feces. Listen, kid, no one likes you. No one cares about your allergies, sensitivities or your irrational fear of brown food products. Your family humors you because it’s state mandated and most counties have laws against throwing you in the river to rid the world of you permanently and/or turn you into the Penguin. But the rest of us just want you to take your goddamn fun sized Twizzlers and leave.
Repeat Offender – It’s hard to say if it’s an affectation of Halloween, or just kids being stupid, but something makes at least one kid think that they can come back to your place 10 minutes later and you’re not going to recognize their homemade Iron Man costume strapped together form old football gear and colored foil.
Precious Moments – The doorbell rings, you put down your turkey roll and Thunderbird, grab the bowl of Tootsie Rolls, open the door and there, staring you in the eye, is Little Lord Fauntleroy and Princess Buttercup, dressed in their fancy, homemade velveteen outfits with Mom, Dad, and thirteen other extended family members cheering them on in the background because they’re just that precious. And a little piece of you dies as you realize just growling and kicking a small child is the wrong thing to do in any situation, so you smile, hand over the candy, and go drink a little more.
Icarus – You can’t help but both admire and pity this kid, who decided back in June he was going to be a fully realized, fully realistic working Optimus Prime for Halloween. And you can see on that cardboard left foot where he really put the work in until about July. And then, when he gave up around August and just started painting boxes from the supermarket. And now, by Halloween, he looks like a red and blue hobo commune that walks. Good try, kid. Maybe next year.
The Elitist – There’s a saying; beggars can’t be choosers, and every Halloween celebrates the fine art of begging. It’s not like those kids did anything to merit you spending money on candy, you probably don’t know who 80% of the people who come to your door are. They’re just strangers who expect you to feed them, that’s hobo shit. So when that one kid comes to the door and actually spurns the candy you offer because it’s not good enough, you may be tempted to tell him to f*ck himself and his ghetto Kimbo Slice costume that makes him look like a mildly obese Ving Rhames. This kid inexplicably has the balls to decide that he only wants chips and chocolate bars and you can keep all your jelly beans and caramels because they’re not doing it for him. You’ll be forgiven if you opted to give him some creamed corn or tampons.
The Child of Despair – Do you remember those terrible costumes from back in the day, usually superhero costumes, that actually had the picture of the hero you were dressed as on the costume itself? Like if you wanted to be the Hulk, you’d inexplicably find yourself in a yellow plastic tunic with a picture of the Hulk’s mug emblazoned across your chest, and even when you were 8 you knew something retarded was afoot? Well they still make those lame ass things and this kid will come to your door, looking as beaten as an unloved junkyard dog, wearing one. Hopefully you took it easy on him, because he loathes himself more than any 8 year old should.