Once upon a time when I was a wee Methodist preschooler in Dallas, some kid showed up on the playground with plastic fangs in his mouth. I think it was right around Halloween, but I can't be sure.
I'd never seen plastic fangs before. When this kid beared his fangs and growled, it scared the holy hell out of me. I thought he was some sort of monster.So I punched him right in the mouth as hard as I could.
The fangs trailed long strands of spittle as they tumbled out of the boy's mouth and landed in the dirt. 
Then he began wailing like...well, like a little boy who'd been punched in the mouth.
I just stood there looking completely stunned. My young mind couldn't process the scene quickly enough. The teacher came over and scolded me because I was unable to articulate that I honestly thought those fangs were real.Happy Halloween. Don't scare me.
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4 comments:
Well I'm hooked and ready for the sequel.
My Halloween moral is: don't dress me up. When I was six my parents dressed me as Sigmund Freud. I had to trust them that it would be funny. It wasn't. The doorbell rung. I answered it to find my best friend in an absolutely perfect Superman costume. He just found me peculiar.
I was the Alamo once. Nobody beat me up, luckily.
That's HILARIOUS!
Were you in Drama Club in high school Greg? I can't remember. If you weren't? You shoulda been. Maybe as a mime.
I never did drama, but I was in technical theater for a semester. We built and struck a set for a play that didn't happen.
Other than that, I spent the period making donut runs and listening to 97 Rock.
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