Day of the Treaters

Spare me.

Trick or treat. But mostly treat, with little to no tricks whatsoever. Time was I couldn’t wait to get my grubby little digits on a pillow case’s worth of Halloween candy, but now that I’m on the other end of this candy loaded shotgun, I feel like the victim of a wild gang of bandits high on sugar and adrenaline and face paint fumes. Can’t just one of these adorable little goblins throw a pie in my face or toilet paper my lawn or throw a couple snaps at my feet? What happened to good old fashioned Halloween vandalism? I tell ya, the younger generation is sending this country straight to the poor house with their insatiable appetite for Fun Size Chocolates. Compared to an extra large bag of Halloween Candy, a burning bag of dog poop is practically free (minus the cost of a paper bag, fire and, you know, the poop, depending on whether or not you have a good Poop Distributor, which can be hard to come by, trust me you). Don’t get me wrong, I want these costumed crusaders to take all of my Halloween candy, because otherwise it will go straight to my jowels, but that doesn’t make bearing witness to this crazed feeding frenzy any easier. It’s like watching a school of piranhas swim upstream and devour a bunch of candy. This is nature’s fury in its purest form. I just hope I don’t lose a finger, or worse. No wonder all their parents are standing at least 50 feet back on the sidewalk.

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