If you have already read the Phantom Disguises post then skip the link below and start at Welcome Back!. It was the one about sexy costumes, Oscar the Grouch, and me dressing as the Devil. If you didn’t catch it then you might want to read before continuing below. I know it seems like work but you will be rewarded.
In a previous article about Halloween costumes I stated that my sister was a bed sheet ghost. I would like to file a formal retraction and submit a correction. As it turns out my mother did not “phone-it-in” on this particular costume. She actually may have won the Halloween costume contest for all time.
Like any good internet article I wrote during a hazy, late night session and I just figured it was close enough and that I would gather details later. Seems reasonable. I dug out some old albums and found lots of cool history that I will share it due time. It took a while to find the evidence of the Halloween in question but I did.
Most of the stated facts were correct. I was in my long lived Devil costume holding the tail awkwardly like a big yellow penis. My cousin was in a Football uniform from the Local Electricians Union 1045. My sister was definitely not a ghost.
You see… the reason I miss remembered this event was because I was standing next to the creepiest clown in the history of creepy clowns. I have psychological scars so deep that I don’t even remember taking the picture. My brain reverts to the ghost memory whenever I close the picture. I can watch Stephen King’s “It” and not even bat an eye. Why should I? I have faced the ultimate clown and lived to tell the tale.
My poor sister has a look of uncomfortable rage that brings the costume to life. I can imagine that she probably wanted to be something more fun or kid friendly but the McCall’s catalog must have been limited to hellish manifestations. The Rainbow Bright section must have been sold out. Her anger is seething.
I also would guess that the candy haul was good because every victim would have dropped their bowls. The second reaction would be one of three possible scenarios; (1) Screaming and running, (2) Calling the cops, (3) Joining our zombie Trick-or-Treating cult and swearing fealty to your new dark clown overlord, allowing bodily possession on Halloween night each year.
Seriously, she looks like Ronald McDonald’s poltergeist in a Wendy’s wig and a Jack-In-The-Box shirt.
I’m never attempting a scary costume again because the bar has been set too high. I want to get this made into a life-sized cardboard cutout and place it at random front doors and ring the doorbell. Instead of “Ding-Dong-Ditch” I will call it “Ding-Dong-Stroke” or “Ding-Dong-Shit-Your-Pants”
Do any of you have archived pictures of evil burger chain mascots? I didnt think so.
To my mother and sister. I apologize for the previous error. You have mastered Halloween in every category. Congratulations.
Underdaddy to the rescue.