Eric sat on the couch, alone in the house, with a big bowl of assorted candy on his lap, watching John Carpenter's The Fog on what so far was The Best Halloween Ever.
On screen Mrs. Kobritz was telling little Andy to lock the windows, while Eric rummaged through the dregs of chocolaty goodness, looking for anything without coconut. The Reese's Cups were the first casualty, followed soon after by the mini-Snickers and -Milky Way bars. Scattering the empty wrappers on the floor, he uncovered some Crunch bars when there came a loud knock at the door.
“Well, here we go with round 12.” He paused the movie just as Mrs. Kobritz was walking out into the dense, unearthly fog, weaponless and witless, looking for the source of the scary banging, and went to answer the door.
Outside he saw a group of surly teenagers cleverly dressed as surly teenagers.
“Trick or treat.” They uttered the traditional phrase with as much enthusiasm as a person digging his own grave at gunpoint.
“Wow, what great costumes! How long did it take you to come up with blue jeans and t-shirts?”
“What? Look, we said trick or treat; just give us some candy.” As one, the teens held out ratty-looking pillow cases.
Eric made a big show of thinking things through, then said “Ya know, I'd like to but I'm all out. Sorry. I guess you'll just have to trick me.”
The alpha teen leaned back and looked over the house front, then stared at Eric and said “It looks like you've been 'tricked' a few times already. I have half a mind...”
“Beat it, punks!”
Eric slammed the door shut and, with a smile on his face, returned to the movie, thinking that ought to get'em going!
Minutes later he heard the unmistakable whump whump whump of eggs impacting the house.
When he thought the barrage was over, Eric sprang up off the couch and ran to the door, flinging it open.
“Is that all you got, you...”
His exclamation was cut short. He barely ducked out the way as one last egg went whizzing past him, through the short hallway and splattered on the kitchen wall behind him.
“Wow, good throw,” but he was speaking to the teens' receding backs.
The whole night had been a version of this most recent attack; little kids got candy, but anyone older than 10 or so received a taunt or undignified dismissal, otherwise know as an invitation to trickery.
Ignoring another knock at the door, Eric checked his watch and decided it was time to wrap things up. He went into the kitchen, barely sparing a glance at the egg oozing its way down to the floor, and grabbed a piece of note paper and a pen. He wrote a quick note, went into the living room and shut off the DVD player and TV.
Grabbing one last handful of candy, he went out the front door, stepping over a now-smoldering bag of dog poop. A survey of the yard brought a smile to his face.
The trees were heavily festooned with toilet paper (and what looked like a pair of underwear, used), the yard was dusted with quite a bit of flour, and the front of the house was abused. Badly. There were egg- and wet toilet paper wad-impacts all over, more toilet paper adorned the shutters, the windows were throughly soaped...even the remaining car had been hit; more soaped windows, air let out of tires, shaving cream all over.
Before wedging the note in the outer door, he read through it once more.
“John,
hope you had a great time at the Halloween party tonight; I know I had a blast! If you ever need me to house sit for you again, just let me know; I'm here for you, man!
I'll see you later,
Eric
PS: You remember that $400.00 you've owed me since last year but on several occasions said 'I'll pay you back next month' but never did? Good news! I've decided to call off the debt. You're off the hook!"
With a satisfied grin on his face, Eric walked around the corner to where his car was safely parked and drove home.