Hallow's Eve spat escalated into an outright brouhaha.
andrewryan69
Published
11/01/2011
A small disclaimer before I commence my riveting tale, I would like to emphasize my overall masculinity by stating that I partake in various activities that are male related, such as log tossing and barbell curling. That being said, I would like to further state that draping myself in the robes of a bumblebee does NOT abrogate my manhood ... and now the tale:
Ominous clouds overshadowed the dark sky as the full moon beamed upon the quaint neighborhood that bears a plethora of children, their respective mothers, and of that ilk. Children were equipped to collect their respective loots of candy as they trekked throughout the neighborhood, either ringing doorbells or simply grabbing candy from secluded baskets.
I specifically recalled leaving a basket of goods in front of my home, filled to the brim with a cornucopia of chocolates and hard candies, complemented with a large sign reading: TAKE ONE OR FACE SEVERE CONSEQUENCES. Personally, I did not wish to barter with the simpleton children who roamed the neighborhood as I was too preoccupied admiring my bumblebee outfit and watching reruns of Goosebumps.
After settling upon my throne, I was rudely awakened by the ring of my doorbell. I stomped to the door, peaked through the door hole, and witnessed some grotesque and corpulent child dressed as a zombie Justin Bieber awaiting for me to hand him candy! I was startled by the boy's ignorance as I vociferated to simply take ONE candy from the bowl and be off. I did not wish to be bothered by bestowing my gracious home with the boor's presence. The lad, who did not budge for several minutes, finally worked his way to the bowl and deceived me into thinking that he only grabbed ONE candy ...
... instead, the boy took off with two pieces! You would think I did not notice but prior to the holiday itself, I set up video surveillance around the bowl of candy to prevent thieves from grabbing more than one piece of candy. The boy gradually waddled to his mother's minivan as I opened my front door in a complete rage. I demanded the boy to return immediately as I buzzed my way (I was a bumblebee, pay attention) to the shivering and baffled child, who was attempting to flee the scene with his morbidly obese mother beckoning the boy. I managed to catch up with the child by tackling him on my front lawn (I played punter for my '95 cricket squad); I could hear his mother screaming as nearby patrons stopped and stared at the incident at hand.
The boy was indeed tough to wrestle as he squealed like the little piggy he was. His left hand clenched the pieces of desired candy while his other attempted to swipe at me, each finger festooned with various remnants of chocolate and whatnot. His candy satchel ripped and I suffered minor injuries but I was the victor as I grabbed my pieces of candy from the boy's clenched fist. I left the little runt crying on my front lawn and I pointed to the mother to gather her prize pig and leave before I call the proper authorities. I rightly heard an applause from nearby patrons, possibly admiring my audacity to preserve my dignity and policy of only taking ONE candy from the bowl. I was completely justified in my actions and the boy was lucky that my double barrel wasn't involved in the incident.
Ominous clouds overshadowed the dark sky as the full moon beamed upon the quaint neighborhood that bears a plethora of children, their respective mothers, and of that ilk. Children were equipped to collect their respective loots of candy as they trekked throughout the neighborhood, either ringing doorbells or simply grabbing candy from secluded baskets.
I specifically recalled leaving a basket of goods in front of my home, filled to the brim with a cornucopia of chocolates and hard candies, complemented with a large sign reading: TAKE ONE OR FACE SEVERE CONSEQUENCES. Personally, I did not wish to barter with the simpleton children who roamed the neighborhood as I was too preoccupied admiring my bumblebee outfit and watching reruns of Goosebumps.
After settling upon my throne, I was rudely awakened by the ring of my doorbell. I stomped to the door, peaked through the door hole, and witnessed some grotesque and corpulent child dressed as a zombie Justin Bieber awaiting for me to hand him candy! I was startled by the boy's ignorance as I vociferated to simply take ONE candy from the bowl and be off. I did not wish to be bothered by bestowing my gracious home with the boor's presence. The lad, who did not budge for several minutes, finally worked his way to the bowl and deceived me into thinking that he only grabbed ONE candy ...
... instead, the boy took off with two pieces! You would think I did not notice but prior to the holiday itself, I set up video surveillance around the bowl of candy to prevent thieves from grabbing more than one piece of candy. The boy gradually waddled to his mother's minivan as I opened my front door in a complete rage. I demanded the boy to return immediately as I buzzed my way (I was a bumblebee, pay attention) to the shivering and baffled child, who was attempting to flee the scene with his morbidly obese mother beckoning the boy. I managed to catch up with the child by tackling him on my front lawn (I played punter for my '95 cricket squad); I could hear his mother screaming as nearby patrons stopped and stared at the incident at hand.
The boy was indeed tough to wrestle as he squealed like the little piggy he was. His left hand clenched the pieces of desired candy while his other attempted to swipe at me, each finger festooned with various remnants of chocolate and whatnot. His candy satchel ripped and I suffered minor injuries but I was the victor as I grabbed my pieces of candy from the boy's clenched fist. I left the little runt crying on my front lawn and I pointed to the mother to gather her prize pig and leave before I call the proper authorities. I rightly heard an applause from nearby patrons, possibly admiring my audacity to preserve my dignity and policy of only taking ONE candy from the bowl. I was completely justified in my actions and the boy was lucky that my double barrel wasn't involved in the incident.
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