The last thing I remember was jumping out some bushes to scare some trick-or-treaters. One of them had a big stick and I didn’t. Never saw it coming.
I had this dream that this stark-raving socialist US-hater was elected president ...
ELAINE: Oh, no, no! That's where it gets interesting! Don't you see? The - the train is bearing down on you, you - you dive into a side tunnel - and you run into a whole band of underground tunnel dwellers!
PETERMAN: It just seems so cliched, and obvious. It's not interesting writing.
ELAINE: Yeah.. yeah. I know. Um.. how about if, instead of.. diving from the train, you.. uh, you, I don't know, you slip and, and fall in some mud, and.. ruin your pants?
PETERMAN: (Intrigued) The very pants I was returning. That's perfect irony! Elaine, that is interesting writing!
Scared is: When my fifteen year old daughter went trick or treating (actually taking some kids in the neighborhood) in a skimpy french maid’s uniform. Now that is scary for a father.....
Anyone care to share?
Many years ago when my husband and I were just starting out, we lived in an inner-city neighborhood for a couple of years. On Halloween my husband got out his replica Colt revolver and dressed up like a cowboy with a bandana over his face. He sat in a rocking chair in the middle of our living room, and rigged up a string to open the front door. The first bunch of trick-or-treaters rang the bell and he opened the door with the string, pointing the gun in their faces. The kids screamed.....and then one of their dads came running and waving a real gun. Needless to say, that costume was retired immediately!
I have an embarrassing Halloween story. A man asked me if I didn’t think I was a little old to be trick-or-treating.
I am 61 and every Halloween has been scary since I turned 50.
Each Halloween I have to be reminded that I am one year closer to the grave... it’s my birthday. LOL
Back in high school me and a couple of others went to the local McDonald’s, dug thru the trash and got all the discarded Big Mac’s we could find. Couldn’t afford eggs.(They put the ones with an expired “shelf life” in a separate bag for counting, an inventory thing). If you take a Big Mac and knead it, it turns to goo. Hit someone in the windshield with one and it looks like someone threw up. Great fun.
It all started the first Wednesday of the month back in November 2008....
In 1975 I lived in a poor part of west Phoenix, I was 12 and 6ft tall, I knew it was my last year trick or treating and I had no money. I made a costume out of Hefty trash bags and put black shoe polish on my face and hands. As my brother and I were walking down the street cars would honk and yell at us, we weren’t sure what they were saying, then I heard the N word and was wondering who they were yelling at?
At the next house there was a haunted garage, the owner asked what a f’in n@ggar was doing in his yard and didn’t I know better, BOY?
We made a hasty retreat, with a group of half drunk white trash following us for a few blocks cursing and taunting us.
My brother went around a corner and before I knew it he took off like a gazelle!
We ran all the way home and I don’t know how long they followed us! We were scared to death!
Apparently, I looked very much like a black man it that costume.
Who knew?
My one and only experience of acting like a juvenile delinguent was back in ‘67 on Halloween in Austel, Georgia.
I was 15, I had buddied up with an older kid who was 16 and had a car. Four of us stocked up on eggs and firecrackers and we went cruising around the small town scaring little kids and egging cars, etc.
We also had some M-80 firecrackers. We turned down a residential street and started tossing M-80s into people’s yards. We went a bit further and learned we were on a dead-end street.
We turned around and headed back up the street. One of the residents was on the shoulder with a shotgun. We all ducked down and the driver goosed the accelerator. Luckily we didn’t hit anything, the local didn’t shoot us, we called it a night.
That was my last and only experience of being a vandal.
Things that go bump in the night for later reading...
37 years ago I was returning from a long (8 month) deployment on board my first ship, a gator freighter that was doing its scheduled WesPac. Young and single, and a homesick sailor .. we returned oct 26, to home port. Promptly friends (dubious ones) in San Diego set me up with a blind date for Halloween.
Trying not to be graphic here ... but the date turned out to be ... lets see .... does the name Henrietta Hamhocker give you a hint. Let your imagination run, and then multiply it by a factor of 10 .. it went from bad to worse, very quickly. In fact that night upon returning to ship I jolingly asked the OOD to have the CDO and XO put me on restricted liberty for the next 30 days. I was afraid to leave the safety/confines of the ship .. the natives .... they were NOT friendly.
Never again ....
Clearing harbor mines out of Viet Nam was a holiday compared to that night of liberty call.
I took a lesson from Alfred Hitchcock. Everybody goes for “shock” on Halloween, some guy in a mask leaping out from behind a bush. So I decided to go for “suspense” instead.
I put on my monster costume, which wasn’t a real monster costume, but a human-looking costume. A chemical suit, protective mask, boots, leather gloves and a sleeping bag hood to cover my hair. Then I slumped in a chair out in front of the house, with a big bowl of candy at my feet.
Kids could see me from either end of the block.
They then went from house to house, and every time they would look, I would still be there, unmoving. Finally, by the time they got to my house, the kids would stop on the sidewalk and ponder. They had been thinking about it for several minutes, and were now faced with the dilemma.
“Is it live, or is it a dummy?”
One of the funniest ones were a group of small boys, the oldest of which got the idea of brow-beating the smallest of them to “Prove you’re a man...go get candy for the rest of us!” The other two picked up on it and applied peer pressure as well.
Well, the littlest one couldn’t resist—his manhood was at stake. So he started slowly walking towards me, backwards, getting ready to take off when I tried to grab him. With his hand reaching backwards, his little fingers clutching, he was going to try and grab some candy, before he could “get got” by the monster/serial killer/whatever that thing was that was slumped there.
Eyes fixed on me the whole time, except just for a second when reaching down to get the candy. And then I...
twitched a hand.
His little friends let out a group scream. But the smallest one beat them to the end of the block, running like the wind.
Years later, they still remembered that hand twitch. Best Halloween ever, as far as they were concerned. They still wanted to know if it was live, or a dummy.
I wouldn’t say.
we lived overseas for a few years.
My daughter was about 14 and was asked to babysit for friends, so they could attend a Halloween party.
She went to their apartment building. On the way up, we passed an apartment with the door open, and a couch with what appeared to be a dead old lady on it.
She commented to me that the foreigners sure were into Halloween.
Being my observant self, I realized that the old lady WAS dead, and the apartment door was open to make room for the mourners, that were spilling out into the hall.
She was not very happy about being thisclose to a dead person on Halloween.
I LMAO all evening!!
So she was scared.
We had had a storm pass thru with rain and wind. A limb had fallen on the electrical line and knocked some lights out.
When we got there, the firemen were bringing a man down a ladder.
An electrical worker had been electricuted working on the line. We saw them put him on the ground and give him a shot in his heart. It didn't work; he was dead.
My 17 YO cousin had appeared with another group of kids and she put me in the car and took me home.
Every Halloween I think about it. The man and his wife had a 9 year old daughter.
The scariest Halloween was last year. A neighbor carved a pumpkin to look like Obama, and other neighbors were talking about how great he was. It was about the scariest Halloween ever!!!!!!
Hubby once worked as a Mental Health worker in a State Hospital. He got an Invitation from the Head Shrink at the hospital for a Halloween party. The invitation said “OK to dress up” So I dessed him up as Bob Dylan in his “Blood on the Tracks” Phase, and I dressed up as a Medieval princess. When we showed up at the Shrink’s oh-so-la-de-dah mansion, we discovered that “dress up” meant...
BLACK TIE!!!!!!!
I met my first wife on Holloween......beat that.