As night time descends on the month of October, kids across the country are dressing up as spooky ghosts and ghastly ghouls. To prepare for that storied tradition of trick-or-treating, we decided to ask The Yearbook Office contributors what they would be handing out to the costumed masses this All Hallow's Eve.
This year, I will be giving trick-or-treaters full-sized candy bars (full bars!) and the creepiest smile I can muster. I don't usually have many trick-or-treaters come by my door, so I'm trying to toe the line between "that lady is WEIRD" and "OMG FULL BARS"
Kids would get a Skull Crusher with a paper clip taped to the wrapper. They were a short-lived ‘80s candy, white chocolate skulls filled with strawberry ooze. You’d take a paper clip, and poke a tiny hole in each eye socket. Then, the gentlest of squeezes sent goo rivulets out of its eyes, and everyone would go, “Aww, siiiick.” They were a Gwar concert in candy form, and if you don’t think we need that today, I weep pink goo for you. Also, kids could use the paper clip to hold together important documents, so it’s practical as well.
I will be hand-forging custom candies out of two other candies and passing them to children. Snix, Twickers, and Milky Musketeers are some of the more popular choices. I will not combine anything with Rolos because they are a disgusting abomination. Anyone who gives out Rolos is going to the Jack Chick “HAW! HAW! HAW!” hell.
Rolos. It's a rollicking Rolo revel in my candy basket - with maybe some stale ginger chews and some licorice-flavored saltwater taffy mixed in. Rolos will glue those little mouths shut, thus cutting down on the noise pollution that haunts our streets on All Hallow's Eve. And once word gets out they're all I've got, the little demons will avoid me of their own accord. Get off my lawn! cue cartoon villain laugh
I want to hand out Han Solo Pez dispensers. Mostly because there’s no real way to tell it's Han Solo. It’s just a head. I want to be that creepy guy who says, "I understand you like Star Wars? Perhaps you want to eat candy out of Harrison Ford's throat? Also works for fans of Witness, Air Force One, and Regarding Henry!”
I would like to pass out apple-flavored razor blades. All the cool teens would be hanging out and I'd say, "Those blades don't taste like apples, you dopes!" and they'd say "That isn't why we like ‘em, you old piece of shit!" and then I'd smile and they'd give themselves a fruit shave.
I didn't celebrate Halloween growing up. Thanks to our religion I had to sit out of classroom parties. Night of, we actually turned out all the lights and hid in the basement. One year, new friends came on Halloween night and brought a pumpkin as a gift. My dad made them throw it away before coming into the house. I can't believe they ever saw us again. Short story, I'm not very good at Halloween, but I will absolutely destroy a bag of candy corn.
Wait, is trick-or-treating still a thing? I’ve been living in apartments and roommate-packed houses for years and I've never once had trick-or-treaters come to my door. I've heard they all go to schools, instead, for some kind of highly structured trick-or-treat simulation activity.
It’s a shame, because I would have handed out the best candy. Fun Size Three Musketeers, Blow Pops, and anything with a cartoon character on it. No Tootsie Rolls or those weird orange things.
I used to buy candy in the hopes that kids would show up. Now, like many adults, I suspect I just buy candy.
Halloween was easy in the Bay Area, where kids weren’t allowed to leave their homes after dark. I just bought a bunch of fun-size Snickers “in case” and watched Netflix.
I just moved to Portland, so I don’t know what people give out here. Organically-grown, locally sourced, stevia-sweetened gummy mustaches? Blazers tickets? A crisp IPA?
I live in a basement apartment with a shared entrance and a reactive pit bull mix who shakes and barks when the upstairs doorbell rings. Trick-or-treaters are not welcome at my house. I'll pass out Trader Joe's dark chocolate peanut butter cups to myself. I'll mutter "trick or treat" and open a bottle of wine. If children show up at my sunken window ledge, I'll offer them a handful of olives straight out of the jar in the cold light of an open fridge. You think Halloween is scary, kids? Come back when you’re old enough to know better.