Pardon me, just a little mood setter before we begin.
Halloween is right around the corner. With it comes all the ghoulish horrors of unsupervised adolescents running around egging houses and snatching up whole piles of candy from the bowl out on the porch steps that has been clearly marked ONE PIECE ONLY PLEASE by the prudish old couple who don’t want their doorbell to be going off all night. Costumed delinquents on a sugar high will soon be invading upper class neighborhoods in pursuit of their Kit Kats and Milky Way Midnights, fulfilling a grand tradition dating back thousands of years when ancient Druids used to party it up for a night with the reawakening dead.
It’s a shame that this is a past time that gets grown out of. College students just don’t spend their time trick-or-treating; somehow, dressing up as Power Rangers and ghostly bed sheets and running from house to house singing for candy no longer holds its appeal. As a sad result, our intake of the annual holiday chocolate has dropped to a pitiful state.
Alaska just isn’t the greatest climate for trick-or-treating in the first place. Come the end of October, if there’s not a foot of snow on the ground already, the temperature has dropped to about zero degrees Kelvin, and concerned parents have bundled their trick-or-treating little children up in twenty layers of snow suits. The poor kiddos can forget wearing actual Halloween costumes underneath this suffocating cocoon of protection: they all end up looking like squat, brightly colored Michelin Men, shuffling slowly from house to house in the gathering dark.
“Look honey, it’s another rainbow Michelin Man! Give the lil’ guy a Snickers.”
The prospect of their little tikes going door-to-door asking for sweets at night sends parents into Halloween high-alert: fed on countless government-issued Halloween safety pamphlets warning of the dangers associated with this beloved tradition, they’re convinced that every neighbor is a potential pedophilic creeper who could be handing out roofie-laced candy and giving the phrase “bobbing for apples” a whole new meaning. The kids themselves aren’t worried about such evils—their biggest fear is running into the household that hands out fruit leathers and stale popcorn balls instead of actual candy. But parents have launched into a new level of paranoia, insisting on confiscating all sugared loot brought in and thoroughly checking it for any form of poison or horse tranquilizer. In fact, most would prefer if their kids didn’t bring back any candy at all…just for safety’s sake.
That’s perfect for us college students, who really would like to get our hands on some of that loot without the hassle and embarrassment of knocking on doors and asking for it. Sure, there are the costume parties and Paranormal Activity movies and Sexy Nurses to get our Halloween kicks from, but deep down, we all want to satisfy that childhood craving for devouring massive amounts of Whoppers and Swedish Fish.
So what better way to do it than take the candy from the little kids! They’re slow and vulnerable, their parents don’t want them to have it in the first place, and who knows, we might actually be saving them from a roofies-related incident after all! No violence is needed—simply scaring them should do the trick. Just jump out of a bush wearing a zombified Muammar Gaddafi mask and they’ll fling their candy everywhere as they waddle off screaming. It’s a bag snatching delight! And finally, you’ve once again got that huge pile of candy to stash up in your cupboard until Christmas.
Wouldn’t it be easier, one may ask, and less likely to rack up burglary charges, if you just went and bought a bag of candy from Target or something?
Please. We may be college students, but we do have standards.