Trick or treat

Yesterday morning I had outpatient surgery for my Lower Back Owie (sorry for the technical jargon), so by the time the trick-or-treaters showed up, I still had IV sedation and painkillers coursing through my veins, as I lay on the couch watching my beloved "Shaun of the Dead" on DVD.

The doorbell rang, and Devin grabbed the candy bowl, and went to attend to our first trick-or-treaters. Here is what I heard from my position over on the couch:

"TRICK OR TREAT!!!"

"Okay, here you go.."

*SMASH!! CLANG!!! Hails of derisive laughter, sounds of footsteps running away*

"Rude little FUCKERS!!!!!"

Yes, a trio of 8-year-olds had grabbed large handfuls of candy from the bowl while my husband was placing one-treat-per-kid into their plastic jack-o-lantern treat receptacles.

Fuming, he turned to me and growled " Here, YOU do this. I'm going out on the back deck to smoke".

So I took over. Most of my customers were the typical fare, 3 or 4 kids with their mom waiting down on the sidewalk. Then HE came. A dude my height in a Brokeback Mountain-ish leather & shearling coat, wearing a rubber monster mask and carrying a large red pillowcase in which to carry his sucrose-& dextrose-intensive loot.

"Trick or treat" he said in a low, resonant bass that was even lower and more resonant than my husband's voice (and let me tell you, my husband's voice is so low that half the population cannot even hear it, just detect a low rumbling in their innards).
I handed over ONE piece of candy, and he left. About half an hour later, the doorbell rang again, and TA-DA!!! There he was again, but THIS time sans mask. What a clever, clever ruse, eh?

"Trick or treat" he said again, in the identical, tummy-rumbling robotic monotone. I glared at him for one-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, then tossed a roll of smarties in his red pillowcase.

He looked into his bag, and then back at me and mumbled plaintively: "I have three kids at home".

I stared back, imagining his "three kids at home" dismembered, and carefully sealed in 57 separate mason jars in the basement deep-freeze. Then I tossed 2 more smarties in his bag, and shut the door.