October 29 - Two More Days Until the Greatest Fucking Day on the Planet, Bra!

I fucking LOVE Halloween, man. Live for that shit. As far as I'm concerned, it's 364 days of anticipation and one day of Hold on to Your Titties, Motherfucker, Because the Time Has Come to Scare the Zagnuts Off Some Kiddies.
It's fucking sweet, man: Get a bunch of kids scooting around the hood, getting their trick or treat on, amassing a decent stash, and feeling pretty good about the costume they ended up with.
And then they come to my door.
All the lights are off, the main door is open, and the screen door is closed. Except for a trail of votive candles leading from the driveway to the door, shit is completely dark.
They all dare each other to ring the bell, and then the instant one of them does I've got it rigged so that ALL the lights go on brighter than shit along with Angel of Death at concert volume. At that exact moment, I pop up so I'm right up on their shit in my Creature from the Black Lagoon mask screaming my ass off and brandishing a spear gun with a dead rat dangling from it. Not a real rat, mind you, but it definitely looks the part--Not like the kids are exactly going to be scrutinizing it or anything. They'll be far too busy shitting themselves. The lights, the music, the insane fucker with the mask and the spear gun, and--oh yeah, I almost forgot--the sudden and completely disorienting appearance of four bleating sheep is guaranteed to throw every kid completely off his game.
Dude, I don't even bother buying candy. No kids ever stick around long enough to get it, so I just spend my candy budget on the applejack brandy that I sip furtively while sitting on my rocking chair in the dark, waiting for the next kids to come.
By 8pm I'm usually good and loaded, and as the evening goes on, off come the clothes, see, because I like to immerse myself in my character.
If I'm still conscious by 9pm, I'm generally naked except for the mask. And by then if any stragglers come by, it's pretty much open season on the unfortunate bastards. By then, I've (wisely) gotten rid of the spear gun. Instead I just go sprinting out the door at anybody who comes near my property. I don't even wait for them to ring the bell. Of course by now I'm drunker than hell, and the vision in the mask is really restricted, plus there's almost always some evening dew on the grass, so I always end up falling at least a couple of times. And then the sheep come running out to mess with me, and by that point Slayer's not playing anymore. It's usually Mack the Knife by then, which isn't nearly as jarring and scary, but by then, given everything else that's going on, it still works, it does the trick with those trick or treaters just fine. Them fuckers are gone and believe me, they ain't coming back.
Halloween, man. Fucking Halloween!!
Just two more days!