A Neighborhood Divided Local man hasn't had Trick or Treaters since the Reagan administration.
At first I thought it’s because of my mole, you know, the one here on my nose? Like, I don’t think it’s that big a deal anymore, I mean after the therapy and the cream. But sometimes people still make comments like “Technically speaking, you might want to consider
listing that thing as a dependent?” silly stuff like that from my accountant. But I don’t think that’s any reason kids wouldn’t want candy. I mean, who doesn’t love candy? Especially the organic candy I have, which is, you know, healthy and all, not like all the processed garbage kids have these days. Honestly, who would want a “Milky Way” when you could have an organic oatmeal soy surprise? The thing is—I love kids. I mean, seriously, when I used to volunteer at my local church’s youth group, I would always tell the kids, you know, “I love kids,” and then the kids would always say something wise, like “Is this done yet?” which I think was a reference to the endtimes. Smart kids. But wait, you were asking about Halloween. I don’t know. I mean, when when the kids would knock on my door back in the late 1980s, I would always tell them how much I love kids and then offer them, you know, some tofu, and then I’d engage them in a discussion about El dia de los muertos
, because I live by some Latinos. That’s what they like to be called, by the way, instead of Hispanics, which is racist. Anyway, they never come to my house anymore…I mean the kids not the Latinos.
Well, we all figured, you know, let’s give the old man a try. But he doesn’t give Milky Way’s or Snickers–not even the chintzy little bite-sized ones. That’s pretty lame. So then we figured, maybe we could break into his house and find some decent candy, but after we got into his place, he didn’t seem scared or nothin’ that we’d broken in. He was kinda excited, like he’d been waiting for us or something. Weird. He tried to make us talk to him about the meaning of property and the failure of communism and we were all like, “dude, seriously, where’s the candy?” And he said, “the candy, man, the candy’s right here!”—and then he pointed at my best friend Johnny’s chest and poked him in the heart. So Johnny thought, you know, ‘this dude’s talking smack,’ so he punched Old Man Hayes in the face, and Old Man Hayes was like, “this is the price of peace, my brothers. This is the price of peace.” And then he tried to give us tofu. We just walked out, gave his pumpkin a good stomping and went.