Customs Humour

Halloween Beggars

The big night approaches fast, but I’m on it.

I’ve stockpiled large quantities of goodies to hand out to the little trick-or-treaters when they knock on my door, though I haven’t yet had a chance to add the drugs to them. I’m hoping Bullet will give me a hand tomorrow to lace the sweets with minute amounts of PCP and psilocybin. And perhaps strychnine, depending on how the mood takes me.

Let’s see now. Do I want demented-running-around with visions from the pits of Hell, or do I want agonised writhing with foaming at the mouth?

Hmm. Not an easy choice. Never easy. Pits-of-Hell / agonised writhing. Agonised writhing / pits-of-Hell. Gnnyyaaahhh!!‚  What to do?

I know! Let’s have both. We’ll mix a little strychnine with some arsenic, some ricin, a bit of cyanide, some Polonium-210, hemlock and botulism. Take that, you botulist bastard!! Now we’re cookin’! Let’s mix it all in with some lysergic acid, the old PCP, psilocybin, a bit of peyote for sudden jumping up on mountains, a little bit of sensemilla. Throw in some DMT, 2C-B, mescaline, DOM, some skunkweed and a healthy lump of old-fashioned DOPE.

There. I think we’re finished. Get to work, Bullet.

I’ve also bought dozens of eggs to pelt the little fuckers’ parents with because I hate these smug yummy-mummy holier-than-thou bastards that shepherd the kids from door to door and stand back there on the footpath watching you in case you abduct the little vermin and cut them in half in front of their smug, horrified middle-class pushy-parent eyes. As if you’d be bothered. As if they’d be any loss.

Fuck you!! I’ll howl at them while my beloved son feeds their little middle-class spawn a fistful of sweets laced with psychoactive chemicals, deadly poisons and radioactive isotopes. Then I’ll pelt their SUV with rotten eggs. Clean that, you condescending fucker!

I have the dogs wound up to a crescendo of rage — achieved very simply, by showing them pictures of people in furry gloves and then kicking them, hard. My plan is simple. Any child that won’t accept the psilocybin-laced sweets will have to run the gauntlet of starving, maddened dogs (mine and all my neighbours’ — we’ve banded together this year). Any survivors will be shouted at in unison by a phalanx of enraged householders: Fuck off, you horrible little prick. You’re ugly and you’ll never amount to anything. And you won’t get into that fee-paying school your crawling slithery furry-hatted parents wanted for you, so there!! Mwooohahahaha!

We’re practising this chant, and it’s starting to gel. Actually, it’s a great way to bring a neighbourhood together.

I’ve also bought a number of catapults for our teenagers to shoot nuts and hard little crab-apples at the children when they see them crying.

With any luck, I’m hoping we can mentally scar even more of the little bastards this year than we did last year.


14 replies on “Halloween Beggars”

You are a grouch. What’s not to like about Halloween? It’s pagan, asks kids to be creative and use their imagination, and everyone’s in a good mood.
You get to enjoy the kids without dealing with the sugar crazies and crash.

How about the parents who actually don’t care a bit but give in to pressure, go and spend hundreds of Euros on decorations, the kids’ costumes and the whole lot. It’s worse than Christmas I tell ya!
And why would the adults start partying with silly costumes for entire 2 weeks everyday leading up to it? Oh wait I forgot, any reason to party drink!

PS: If it weren’t so commercialized it would be actually really enjoyable… Kids actually aren’t encouraged to use imagination, they are encouraged to get their parents to put their hands in their pockets and spend $$$$$$$$$….

One year I converted our hall into a charnel house, made myself appear two foot taller with facial make-up that would turn eggs at two hundred paces… it was, it seems, “too scary” for the little mites. Well boo-bloody-hoo, it’s Hallowe’en and any wee fecker that says ‘trick or treat’ instead of the vernacular ‘apples or nuts’ at my door is asking for it. Mwahahahahahaha! Bring em on!


Apart from the V for Vendetta style bloodlust Bock, I can understand your annoyance at little terriers who wouldn’t normally acknowledge you on a normal day, all of a sudden donning a mask and expecting you not to be a mean ‘aul shite when they pelt out a brutal tune on the tin whistle.

It’s all a brainwashing capitalist plot.

I guess you are urban-based? My memories of Halloween in the bog lands of Offaly are very good. My friends and I would spend weeks collecting/robbing old tyres from farms etc. to ensure that we put a rank stench of rubber over the two for many days after the masks were back in the attic, and scared the shite out of the local cops and parents with our antics.

We’d either jump through the flames after spraying a shit load of petroleum on them or ridding our bathrooms deodorant and hairspray collection, or maybe build a ramp where the local nutcase arsehole would do an Evil Kenevil style stunt through the inferno.

He usually ended up with a few blisters and charred eyebrows.

Nothing to worry about though, he had always had an ugly mug anyway.

At Trick or Treat time, I always put a sign outside the appartment block – sying

“Sod Off, no Trick or Treaters allowed”

Humouring groups of little witches and masked ghouls at the Halloween doorstep is pandering to the Pagan instincts of Irish children. So have bags of nuts, sweets and fruit inside your porch this coming 31st Oct. Help Ireland to revert to the jolly paganism that was disrupted by the blow-in ex-slave cultural revolutionary named Patricius. I’ll be dressed as a Druid in an elegant long gown as I solemnly dish out the sweeties to God’s colourful little creatures.

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