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I Want Candy

The truck for the Kids of Katrina stuff will be here this am - I still have a few labels to slap on and loose ends to tie up AND I did something terrible to my right arm, where I can't fully extend it without screaming in pain. So pardon the Halloween repeat. Just trying to keep in the spirit.

Today's Halloween topic is candy suckage. What kind of suckage? Oh, you know what kind. The kind that comes in a cute little Halloween baggie that you think contains candy but only contains a travel size tube of toothpaste. The kind that at first says "ooh candy corn!" but quickly turns into "Pttoooie! Last year's candy corn? Fucker!"

appleevil.jpgI had an unnerving moment last Halloween. I was standing on my neighbor's porch eyeing the cache of goodie bags he had ready for the mass of costumed kiddies heading his way. He had a few dozen little plastic baggies stuffed with carrot and celery sticks. Yes. Carrots and celery. For a Halloween treat. As I backed away from this evil man's house, I thought "I am so fisking this guy when I get home." Who fisks Halloween treats? A sick, demented blogger apparently.

But, a sick demented blogger who fisks Halloween candy always has an audience that not only appreciates such an endeavor, but has stories of their own to tell. We all had that one neighbor who hated children so much that, instead of just closing the door on Halloween, she would get her jollies by handing out little tricks instead of treats.

We had the Spider Lady and she handed out pennies. Two. Freaking. Pennies. And she cackled while she dropped those suckers in our bags. But we were anything but complacent little children dressed up in fuzzy bunny costumes. No, we were suburban terror. A gang of twelve year old kids in search of that elusive sugar rush. We were the crack whores of our time, stealing the costumes of our little sisters and brothers just so we could go knock down a few old ladies to get our hands on some Sugar Daddies. Ah, good times. Good times.

And just because I'm in a giving mood, I'll throw in a physics lesson: when thrown by a sugar-deprived teenager, a penny will make a dent in aluminum siding.

Hey, we had to do something with the tricks we got to go along with our treats. Ten year old candy corn? Sprinkle a little water on it and it will stick to the windshield of Mr. "Keep Your Ball Out of My Yard" Brown's brand new Lincoln Continental! Wax vampire teeth? If you warm those things up in the palm of your hand they become malleable. Malleable enough to fashion a waxy covering for the windshield wipers on Officer Goldberg's parked patrol car.

Don't look at me like that. We were destined to be juvenile delinquents. Haven't you ever seen Over the Edge?

And the apples. Who in their right mind would give out apples when they know that any parent who sees that fruit in their kids' bag will immediately take out a machete and hack the damn thing to death in search of that elusive razor blade. Personally, I think there were some parents that actually wanted to find the blade in the apple. It was a prize, a brass ring, a suburban legend that, if true, would propel the average Stepford housewife to new heights of fame. I could envision Mrs. Green, her long Clairol hair tied back in a ribbon, holding the rusted razor blade aloft like Charlie holding his golden ticket. Her name would be splashed across the town weekly, her beaming smile belying the sick-to-her-stomach fear that some crazed madman was out there. Then she would entice the other housewives on the block into forming a posse of the pony-tailed, mad mothers bearing pitchforks and torches, hell bent on finding out who put that razor blade in Billy's Granny Smith.

Of course, in the end it turns out that it was Mrs. Clairol herself who stuck the razor blade in that apple, and it would become a sad social commentary on the boredom that befalls housewives in suburbia. Walter Cronkite would air a special on it and three days later, Mrs. Clairol would check into a clinic to overcome her addiction to mother's little helper.

Uh..where was I? I was talking about Halloween candy, right?

Razor blades and used candy corn aside, what was the worst thing you got in your Halloween bag? Expose your neighbors for what they were: cheap, evil bastards.

Comments

I always dreaded that God-awful gray taffy-like substance that came in the orange and black paper wrappers. I think you can buy that stuff in 55-gallon drums at whatever store sells that old-lady hard candy that sits in the glass dish on Grandma's coffee table. You know the stuff...it always congeals into a hard solid blob that would withstand an H-bomb. I think it's the stuff they use to make the space shuttle's tiles. The taffy-like candy is what adheres the tiles to the shuttle after you heat it to 732 degrees centigrade.
I always liked the little Milky Way bars. Now that I'm old and curmudgonly, I never answer the door on Halloween. I buy a bag of the Milky Way bars, eat them, and then toss the empty ripped open bag into a big bowl on the front porch with a sign reading PLEASE TAKE JUST ONE. The little bastards find the empty bag and think that someone beat them to it and took them all. That's when turn on the sprinkler system.
I'm gonna be a hell of a dad someday.

I like taffy.

What is "fisk"?

I'm sorry to say that my dad gave out little boxes of raisins for a couple of years. He was reprimanded by his kids, and now he gives out mini candy bars. Whew

I have to agree with Mumblix - those black and orange paper wrapped horror they pass off as candy was what I hated the most.

Maybe that's why I tend to give out twinkies, Hostess cupcakes, etc and lightsticks or light bracelets. You can hear the kids coming "This is the GOOD house!!!"

That pink striped coconut crap.

Got the pennies too. I also remember one person who would throw unwrapped hard candies into our bags - not only would my parents NEVER let us eat them, they'd be all linty and stuck to the wrappers of the GOOD candies we received.

I think one year there was also toothbrush guy, who gave toothbrushes. (I think some kids soaped his windows for that).

I'm a bit unhappy because I have to work Hallowe'en night; I like going out and buying the kinds of treats I liked as a kid (brand name candy bars) and giving them out. (One year I also gave spider rings, which were a big hit).

A lot of old farts just get what they like so they can eat the leftovers. This year I'm going to Sam's and getting a bunch of those small Doritos bags. MMMM..Doritos.

worst thing i ever got was my mother informing me at twelve that i was never going trick-or-treating again, and that i wasn't even going to a halloween party if it involved any sort of trick or treating. she felt i was too old, and that was it. i've never understood what her problem was with it--it's not for religious reasons.

I hate on the Mary Janes. Errrgh. But those crap suckers with the loop handles are the worst.

I always give out full-sized candy bars. I put a skeleton in the yard, too. I am famous.

I never understood why people gave out what they had to know was crappy loot. I mean, it was an open invitation to have thier house/car/personal self assaulted in a most heinous fashion. Witness Michele's examples of creative retribution.

Worst Halloween loot ever: toenail clippers.

I shit you not.

Those red and white Christmas peppermints, and the hard ribbon candys. Oh, and Jolly Ranchers.

Blech.

My parents give out little plastic Halloween toys (like mini skeletons) but they at least have the sense to give out some candy with them.

I have to admit that I liked the mini raisin boxes, hard though they often were, and would trade my butterscotch for them (I hate butterscotch.) My brother thought I was crazy.

I also shot up like a tree in junior high and had snarky people asking to see my driver's license. My rule when I give out candy is that if someone has the guts to show up at my door and beg candy as an adult, I'll give it to them... as long as they are in costume. None of this "I'll wear my regular clothes and pretend it's a costume" crap.

It's really too bad. I miss trick-or-treating.