My Life As A Halloweener – Part 1
Archive - Andrew's JunkAuthor: Andrew Traweek
The Madness Begins…
Hi-dee-ho, readerinos! Since my autobiography seemed to be a mediocre hit at best, I’ve decided to force some more down your crummy little throats! But my last venture had some stuff in it that I didn’t particularly like. Seriousness. Downright depressing crap that would make me cry if I were a pansy.
So, in honor of the greatest month in history, I’m going to take you on a journey through my many, many Halloweens spent on this wonderful world. I must warn you, some of this stuff is extremely graphic. So if you object to anything remotely fun, I suggest you get a sense of humor and read on!
It all started with my first Halloween at the ripe old age of four. Return of the Jedi had just come out, and Ewoks were all the rage. As with most children that age, I started my masquerading under a stupid plastic mask, and those elaborately-themed garbage bags that they’d shove into a bag, slap a label on, and sell at JC Penney.
That thing smelled like crap. I hated it. The thing I hated even more was the fact that my next door neighbor Brandon had to copy me and be a dumb-ass Ewok too. I was Wicket, he was some dumb grey Ewok.
So the day started with me running around the house naked (as usual), refusing to wear anything but my Halloween costume. After a few totally uncalled for spankings, I was relegated to wearing my dorky-ass striped shirt, and some brown corduroy pants that chafed the hell out of my pee-pee.
Now that I was running around fully clothed, my mom though this was the perfect time to go to the pumpkin patch to get our pumpkins. Not only was it NOT perfect due to the lack of any decently huge pumpkins, but we had to drag Brandon with us because his parents didn’t love him. Poor bastard. He did nothing but cry about how we wouldn’t let him ride the freakin’ pony ride over and over again. A kid without priorities. It made me sick.
So, my mom bought him a pumpkin. We get home, and my mom hands us those dumb little pumpkin carving kits that they give to little kids that’ve tried to commit suicide. Where’s the real knife? I can’t carve with this crap!
Well, Brandon managed to totally obliterate his pumpkin. So he starts cutting on mine while I wasn’t looking. At that point in time, I would have killed to have had a real knife. Never, ever, EVER mess with another man’s pumpkins! I ended up knocking him off his chair and into the refrigerator. I got sent to my room, and he got some chocolate milk, and got to watch He-Man. I was pissed.
So, nighttime comes, and we head out to do our trick or treating. He did nothing but whine the whole time because the little porker kept eating his candy. He thought it would be best that I share my loot. HELL NO! The Ewok hit the fan, and I smacked him in the face, which cracked his mask. He threw a temper tantrum that got his ass a one-way ticket home. I was happy.
My following years were much better, mainly because Brandon moved. I was so relieved to be rid of that little snot. But I was getting old enough to venture out on my own.
I don’t know if any of you remember the old show Alien Nation, but it was all popular in 1988. So, I did what any self-respecting Sci-Fi freak would have done: shaved my head, and glued on a bald cap with red spots on it. Finish off the look with a Levi Jacket and matching Levi pants, and I was set. All the other kids at school were princesses or robots. I was a freakin’ alien! Woo!
On that day, we had a special assembly where everyone got to show off their costumes, and compete for the stupidest little pumpkin I ever saw. I ended up winning in my class, and moved on to competing with all of the third graders. I got my ass handed to my by some dumb chick dressed as a freakin’ Indian. I WAS AN ALIEN, DAMMIT! You see, I had made a fatal mistake in my costume. The guys on that show were cops. I forgot to bring my gun to school. One minor detail lost me the retarded pumpkin. Argh!
It took me almost a year to get over that judging disgrace. But I had an awesome plan this year. I was going to use an entire tube of my mom’s face-peel stuff, some oatmeal, face paint, and other crap to be the grossest pile of a monster I could be. Unfortunately, after a 20 minute bus ride to school, the face peel crap started to fall off, taking all the face paint and oatmeal with it. So now I had but a few spots of blood and peeling skin to run with. My costume now became a guy who had some horrible shaving accident. I didn’t even win my class. Stupid robots. So unoriginal.
So yeah, the guy that always smelled like pee won for his store-bought robot costume. I was pissed yet again. But I never got the chance to come back for a victory, because I had moved.