You know what does settle well with rum? A hot costume on a deliciously healthy body.
In the past I have held Halloween parties with a vengeance. One of my (and my roommates') best was a costume keg party, complete with Texas mickeys, random handcuffing and a live psychic.
This year, however, we were not as lucky. This year, the Newf, the Beast and myself have been fighting the stomach flu. Sexy. There has been so much fluid floating around here that we don't know which way is up; adding booze did not seem prudent (we only have one toilet).
Regardless of the bugs and bodily waste we thought it important to send a shoutout to one of the best holidays of the year. We had to set up on the sidewalk, close to the action and close to the kids. The Newf and I had an idea, one we had seen executed perfectly in the past.
We planned to plunk a pumpkin on my head, stuff my clothes with straw and set me up next to a bowl of candy. The Newf was going to lurk in the bushes with a video camera. When the unsuspecting children helped themselves I was going to jump to life and scare the living daylights out of these kids (and hopefully their parents).
If only we had gotten that far.
It took me forever to find a pumpkin. Apparently city folk have one size pumpkin: small. My head is size unusually large. We spent $30 on a pumpkin, thirty dollars, but it was a massive pumpkin. I scooped the guts out and drew a face on the bad boy while the Newf was at work. A hole was carefully carved in the bottom to ensure a tight, but comfortable, fit.
We had to give up on straw. Apparently city folk have no straw either; leaves would have to do. What they feed their livestock I do not know.
At the appointed hour I stuffed my clothes full of leaves (I assure you, it is not comfortable) and waddled out to the required chair.
With our plan ready to go and the sun setting the Newf hit the bushes. It was then I felt the gurgle; it was the gurgle of death.
"Newf, I don't feel so hot."
"Really? Are you okay?" the Newf inquired.
"Yeah, I guess. I just, I really don't feel good."
"Linds, you were fine five minutes ago. It is probably just nerves, you've always been the nervous type;" Newf suggested. "Besides, I think I see some kids!"
"Newf, I don't feel good, I gotta go."
"Lindsay, you are a scarecrow now. Scarecrows don't have stomachs, they have nerves of steel. Take a deep breath, it'll be fine. I promised you won't get arrested. There is a whole group of kids coming!"
I took a deep breath and that's when it all ended. We were so close.
I threw up in my pumpkin.
Not only did I vomit in the orange ball of bitterness, but I was trapped. I ended up on all fours, bringing up bile like it was going out of style, blindly pawing at the pumpkin, while a group of children watched. The Newf was laughing so hard he forgot to tape the scene (there is a God).
When I finally pulled my head out it was covered in puke. I had spew dripping down my face, pooling under my shirt collar and even up my nose.
"Cool!" one of the kids exclaimed. Not only was my plan thwarted, but these kids thought this was all a stunt.
"Oh really?" I questioned, still pissed off that my $30 pumpkin was now filled with the product of my purging.
I stepped towards the group and the kids' mother lost her cookies.
At least all was not lost: I was cool. She is just weak.
Needless to say, the Newf passed the candy out and I took a shower. There are no pictures; at least, there better not be.
Hope your tricks went as planned. Did you dress up?
Pickled in puke,