It’s also a day I’d like to forget for the rest of my natural life.
Last Halloween didn’t start out badly. For the past three weeks, I had been working on my costume non-stop, ignoring classes and calling in sick to work. I told them that I lost a leg in a pumpkin carving accident, but it would probably grow back by November 1.
I was determined to make the best costume in the history of the world. I wanted my grandchildren to look in their history books and see a picture of me, wearing The World’s Greatest Costume. If I played my cards right, I might even get a holiday or even a future building on campus named after me. I’d even settle for a bathroom stall – The Matt Frey Memorial Little Blue Stall.
By now I bet you’re wondering what this ultimate costume of mine was. So am I, actually. I don’t really know how to sew, iron on decals, or use any of that “glue” stuff, so I basically taped something together with a paper towel tube, a Pepsi box and some McDonald’s bags. I was going to be a robot, but I got tired of coloring everything silver about half way though the project and figured no one would notice that this particular robot was made from 57 percent post consumer waste. Ninjas are totally sweet, so I made a ninja mask out of my mother’s wedding dress. And who could I forget werewolves? Lucky for me I had a pair of hairy gloves to wear from the year before.
So there I was, standing outside of the Math-Science-Technology building bright and early on a beautiful Halloween morning. The parts of the Pepsi box that weren’t crushed from me sitting on them in the car were glistening in the sun, my ninja mask fluttered in the wind, and my hairy werewolf hands held onto my book bag. But I before I could get to my first class, a group of little kids from the elementary school came marching up. They were going to go trick-or-treating on the first floor of the MST building. At 9 a.m.
I was in such a good mood due to my super great costume and all, so I decided to say hello to the kids. “Happy Halloween!” I yelled with a smile.
A nearby Spider-man stopped and started at me for a moment. “What are you supposed to be? Some sort samurai polar bear?”
Another kid, dressed as Yoda, stopped to look at me too. “I don’t know what he’s supposed to be, but he looks stupid.”
“Stupid!?” I exclaimed, getting red in the face. “I’ll have you know that…”
Spider-man cut me off. “He’s right. You do look really dumb.”
“I think he’s supposed to be some sort of Robo-Ninja Werewolf,” Yoda suggested, using his light saber to scratch his back.
“Yeah, a STUPID Robo-Ninja Werewolf!” replied Spider-man.
By now a group of kids had formed and were watching the action. A little girl dressed as an angel stepped forward, turned to the crowd, and exclaimed, “Forget this trick-or-treat crap! Let’s beat him up and steal his books! We can sell them and buy lots of candy!”
The rest of the day was kind of a blur. All I can remember is being attacked by Yoda, a few Powerpuff girls, Batman, Harry Potter, and no less than three Spider-men, then waking up at midnight in a forest three miles way from the college. My beautiful costume lied about ten feet away, as tattered as my broken body. I’ve never cried harder in all my life, even that time that Santa Claus told me that my mother isn’t real.
I bet those kids were just jealous of my awesome costume, but its okay. I’ve already started designing a new one for next Halloween. This time, it’s going to have flame throwers, spinning knives and lasers. How’s that for child proof, eh?
Or, you know, I might just be a Power Ranger instead.
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| I need Dragonzord Power (and candy), NOW! |
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