Classic Tricks

C*L*A*S*S*I*C  T*R*I*C*K*S

We’re all familiar with the classic treats associated with Hallowe’en. Here, I’ll list them in the order of universally accepted preference:

1. Anything Full Size
2. Anything Fun Size
3. Those plastic sleeves with those small, candy-colored chocolate balls in them
4. Sugar Children
5. Popcorn Ball
6. Smarties
7. Whoppers
8. Sugar Fathers
9. Pennies Baggie
10. Apple / Wax Teeth / Dots [threewaytie]
No. Bit o’ Honey

Pictured: a fundamental misunderstanding of the nature of candy

Like a handkerchief in the back pocket was gay code for being down to get-get-get down, the continued existence of the Bit o’ Honey is the signal from candy-makers to dentists that their pact to racket teeth is ongoing, inviolate.
Where was I?

We’re all familiar with the classic treats associated with Hallowe’en, but whither the classic tricks? Here’s some of the classickest:

((|)) Toilet Paper Their House — the closest thing to actually stealing thirty-five minutes of their life from them; bonus: no Grand Larceny / Petty Murder charges (In this scenario the person who owns the house makes $685.72/hour)

((|)) Smash Their Pumpkin — really, you’re doing them a favor by not letting it turn into a rotten mess all over their doorstep. Sad and gross! The Hallowe’en equivalent of if by President’s Day edible underpants started to mold.

((|)) Smashing Pumpkins — “Panama” them with the entire Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness album until they give you candy. Sure, there’s a lot of good tracks on there, and so many tracks between the two discs that it would take a pretty long time to get mind-breakingly tedious, but, no, wait– “Panama” them with “The End is the Beginning is the End” and “The Beginning is the End is the Beginning.” Soon they’ll be so >dizzy< from trying to figure out whether it’s the beginning or the end or the end or the beginning they’ll start giving you personal checks with multiple zeroes just to leave. Don’t cave yet, personal checks are easily cancelled and nothing holds it value quite like personal information. But Be Forewarned: the songs suck and each gets pretty tedious after hearing them 2/3 times and I guess you are sort of “Panama”ing yourself with them too. (Seriously– over five minutes?)

(I hate WordPress).

Oh, also dress up as albino cat suit Billy Coorgan, and project Batman & Robin against yourself and their house.

(How come?)

Poor James Iha. Slash Fox = Coorgan, Rabbit = Chamberlain, Falco = Iha, Slippy = D’arcy? Sorry, D’arcy. Sorry, Everyone. NO WAIT = D’arcy can be that lady fox and then the rabbit actually even looks like Rick Nielsen. BONUS


I think Rick Nielsen’s people hunted down and destroyed every picture of when Rick had a goatee that they could find. Or, for some reason, not a lot of pictures of Rick Nielsen were being taken in the mid 90s.

((|)) Egg Their House — so humiliating for them, to be the butt of your yokes. Add puns to make their humiliation even worse. Like some kind of ahumorous omelette. (Did you know that your standard Denver Omelette is the single most hilarious thing you can do with a frying pan? Sure you read this and say, ‘well what about tying them to your ceiling, releasing them and letting them smack Daniel Stern in the face?’ Good point, I respond. I withdraw my previous wild unfounded claim).

Funnier than a Denver Omelette / actually, it was paint cans / gif not made by me

((|)) House Their Eggs — surprise surrogacy! They wake up, all adaze, you standing there, so pregnant. How did it happen so fast? You’ve kept them under heavy sedation for months now, feeding them, massaging their muscles, tucking in between them, pretending you are one then pretending you are the other, kissing him to her shoulder and placing his hand on her hip, whipping it out getting it hard and making them make love to each other, grabbing that zygote and putting it in you, all the way in; watching Nick At Nite, eating Maple Walnut ice cream, taking that test, success; the tapes come from your secret stash and have the original line-up  [Donna Reed, Dennis the Menace, My Three Sons, Route 66, etc.]; 8 and 1/2 months of this and now it’s almost Flag Day. Time to get up.

Nick at Nite plus this = New Hampshire

When they wake up, and you are standing there, waiting. They’ll be so surprised that they get one free baby and you did all the work for them. The look on their faces. They’ll probably name it after you and I hope you’re ready to be a godperson.

((|)) Paper Their Toilets. House. — replace their toilet paper with glue traps, fly paper.
Or just leave their regular t.p. but spray it with RAID.

((|)) I Pooped So Much I Threw Up — Huh?

((|)) Tranny Surprise — replace their transmission with a copy of Joy Division’s “Transmission” 7″. Later: the car still runs but chugging along on a bassline-driven hypnotic baritone drone, as Ian Curtis soundtracks the driver’s descent into suicidal depression.

Double Later: when their family comes home “Surprise!” as opening the door mousetraps the chair from underneath three shakes and a li’l spasm.

((|)) Thanksgiving Dinner — ‘WHuh? I thought it was Halloween??’ they’ll say, so confused. So Confused! Hahahaha. Ahahahaha. Ha ha ha ha ha. A hee, a hee. Ha. *bite turkey leg, swig gravy* Stupid idiots.

((|)) Take The Apostrophe Out —  how will all their friends know that they are keeping this ‘en hallowe’? There is no way that apostrophe is supplanting just one (or two) letters…
Pumpkins instead of apples, spider instead of snake (why?); Adam is a Dracula and Eve a princess– basicness is their anti-nudity.
>>>What is your anti-nudity?<<<
Top two answers on the board and they are mutually inclusive

((|)) Kill Their Pets — every single one. Dead now because they didn’t give you Zotz. Forever.

Blazing new trails in the world of food issues

((|)) Replace Their Aluminum Siding With Aluminum Foil Siding — an exercise in Cristo-like tedium, but shinier and therefore better / let’s bake this place like a potato. If they won’t come out and treat you, fill them (through the windows, thick hose) with sour cream and fixin’s until they are hacking up chives. Fill them with cheese and bacon crumbles until their acne has acne, their heart knows its Miranda rights by heart and never talks just asks for a lawyer. STRRRRREETTCH

((|)) Take The High Road — create an impromptu secret pot garden in their backyard/beneath their shrubbery. Then call the cops! With any luck you will get a sweet F-spot for your trouble (Franklin). Does that make the 50 a G-Spot or do you change it up for each? An L-train is a good one, ditto a J-bone (thanks Pat Francis). But W, H, G…

Did you know that there have been $500/$1,000/$5,000/$10,000 and (kind of) $100,000 bills as well?
On the $500 was our pal Bill McKinley. Sort of a dull choice, but notable for its reverse side– one of those magic motion dealies depicting “Czolgosz v. McKinley.” It goes poorly for our Bill.   (There have also been $500 bills feat. Paul Giamatti’s somehow uglier son John Quincy Adams and the ultimate grab-bag Chief Justice John Marshall/Conquistador Hernando de Soto split 6.14″)
The $1,000 bill struggles to contain Grover Cleveland. It was originally supposed to be a $100 bill but they had to take it out an order of magnitude for him to fit / when Grover Cleveland shows up on a bill he really shows up on a bill / I want to make a movie called President Fatso but I’m pretty sure it would be legally obligated to star Martin Lawrence. (There was also a $1,000 bill feat. noted creep Alexander Hamilton).
James Madison is the $5,000 bill. I have nothing to add. No, wait: Good choice?
The man on the 10,000 dollar bill was Salmon Chase, the altar ego of Spawn had it started in the late 60s.

Spawning is when the salmon chase each other (to fuck). Sort of?

Back from hell to... do whatever Spawn did

W = W-L-O-V-E
H = H-one-oh
G = G-mail

((|)) Remind Them That They’ll Be Dead Someday — I mean, technically is that not what this whole night should be about? Candy is just one of the 4 Horsemen of Diabetes (Reality TV, Xbox, and Fries); masks just proto-rictus and costumes practice for funeral clothes. a) You… >>aren’t<< going to be buried as a sexy cat? b) Jesus Christ can we just, as a culture, embrace the funeral mask? If I have to see another creepy, waxen joker smile on the impossibly taut approximation of a person I used to love. (Note: once you die you are dead to me). Who wouldn’t prefer a papier maiche situation with painted quadrants that, 3rd grade art class style, represent different aspects of your personality/things you like? Everybody? Everybody wouldn’t? Well FINE. We’ll see who’s laughing when you’re a tuxedo-bound Smilex victim for all eternity and I’m a kitty cat in a cock sock with Ninja Turtles, a stick figure with a New York City T-Shirt and Harry Potter glasses, the words “Price is Right”, and Tecmo Super Bowl literally plastered on my face.

QB Eagles meant a lot to me / all the way back in '93

It will probably be you, because you got Joker Gassed and all, But Still!
/ Anyways, some methods:

BOO: If you know their phone number, by all means — just call them and tell them
BOO: maybe if you, as a crew, carry around a phone book… I mean, they don’t list by address I don’t think, but if these people’s’s name is unique enough– is there an internet phone book yet?
BOO: OR carry around a ton of burners and throw one of them through their window ringing. They pick it up and: ‘you do, of course, remember that one day you will die’
BOO: although at that point it would be a real trick to interpret that as not a threat on their lives
BOO: I guess just hang up a bunch of paper skeletons then?

((|)) Find Out Who Their Kids Are And CyberBully™ Them — or, if they’re Of Mackability, just cyber them. The internet used to inspire fear due to its special brand of love, not hate. A/S/L you guys *sniff* A/S/L

((|)) Do Real Boring David Blaine Shit — like we will now bury ourselves to the neck in your front yard. {NOTE: make sure you are exploiting the human decency of an actually decent human; you are leaving yourself REAL OPEN}
The trick here is a combo of realistic puppet heads you can switch places with and a neat pre-dug underground fort. You’ll hang them up on ‘Well how did they know they’d get to trick me plus they only dug for like an hour they couldn’t have actually created anything to hide in’. And while they spend their effort trying to discredit your ability to dig BAM you actually researched the SHIT out of this neighborhood and found that each house used to have extra large front yard septic tanks before they switched to sewer. Stupid Idiots– you’re all down there eating your candy, drinking your nickel nips, and playing some crazy rounds of Never Will I Ever Until Now: Challenge Edition while they’re all like ‘duh how do they stay buried so long without needing to eat or go to the bathroom, duh’. WE”RE LIVING IN A GIANT BATHROOM, DUMMIES.

Or, you know, they’ll just kick in your or your puppet’s teeth and game over.

((|)) Do You Ever Just Look At The Credits For A Movie And Think About If All That Labor And Resources Went Towards Anything Else How Much Better We’d Be As A Culture — education, medical research, policework if policework could be unentangled from assaulting those ‘most of us’ power-lite enough so that there will never be repercussions, providing every single person (or every group of, like, 12 people) their own personal trainer/chef, infrastructure repair/redevelopment, making porn instead

((|)) Dress Up As Their Future Selves — and really show ’em what jerks their nigh-corpses will be

((|)) Gift Them Political Literature — so much of it. Slide it under their doors, paper over their windows, dump it down the chimney, no wrong holiday, uh- stuff it in a pumpkin and light it on fire. Thin line, you guys.

((|)) Be Extra Nice About It — really guilt them up, but genuine.
$$$ Make them their first wet burrito
$$$ Hem their pants to a kinder more flattering fit
$$$ Paint their house glow-in-the-dark
$$$ No, wait– that shit is crazy expensive– let’s just paint their House glow-in-the-dark instead
$$$ Most families keep a Hugh Laurie statue, right?

Treat or Trick?

$$$ Write them fanfic about how good-a friends you could be
$$$ Do a sing-a-long
$$$ Learn what songs they like, what keys suit them best, which color sequins jumpsuit them best, build a bonfire, grab some marshmallows, I could go for a S’more right now, all Southern and over-toasted on one side, actually set it on fire and had to blow it out, there’s gotta be a graham cracker substitute that we could use instead, something a li’l less dry/crumbly, and then start singing
$$$ Take out their trash (if they keep it outside, but don’t consider it already taken out, for some reason)
$$$ Wash their car by hand
$$$$ Like, no sponges
$$$$$ Or towels
$$$$$$ Or water
$$$$$$$ Wash it through sheer rubbing
$$$$$$$$ Or inhalation (of filth)
$$$ Remember them fondly
$$$ Write them a letter with your feelings in it, informing them so. BFF half a heart.
$$$ Wish them Well– like, A Well– — no (non-survival, non-emergency) water tastes better than well water — — — so crisp, so cool — — — — — — if they had a well they’d never be unpleasant again. Then they’d love you, forgive you, appreciate you. Dream of you (and only you).
$$$ At a certain point unsolicited kindness is indistinguishable from a trick/terrorism

((|)) Bigfoot ’em — either by ghost, or UFO, or mummy, or actual bigfoot, or circle cropped. Costume slash accessory up and really hoax the shit out of them.

((|)) Fill Their Sprinklers With Blood Somehow

But instead this is blood

((|)) Ornament/Destroy Their Lawn — beautifully, strategically, send a benign message using lime, fire , and others:
informative? burn in the periodic table (of elements, not a depiction of your kitchen that one time after a moon-day post-breakfast, uncontrollable, insatiable I (Still) Lust You love fuck)
deeply personal? now use the other periodic table
epiphanic? the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles as represented by the Magi in the medium of gold frankincense and myrrh OR that time you realized that Russel Crowe’s John Nash in A Beautiful Mind was just Foghorn Leghorn but exactly Foghorn Leghorn

This, but a baby in a bathtub (not a dog in a... paddle house?)

epistolic? write them a nice letter– a nice lawn letter
mosaic? in tiles, probably of Justinian I? But I guess you could do Justinian Bieber– that famous mosaic but with his face, iconic haircut– that’s fun, right? Sigh/saturday night…
mnemonic? just looking at it helps you remember the order of the planets, months with 30 days, heartparts, original lady cast of 90210 in order of fuckability (“I Do Not Actually Want To Have Sex With Any Of These Women” — huh, not so much a mnemonic as a sentence)
pneumatic? filled with news tubes! practical! attractive! practtractical!
pragmatic? a lawn tapestry depicting a mowed lawn (made out of cut grass)
paralytic? nothing but hidden obstacles, bucking horses, and invisible neese (the group-plural of nooses (i.e. gaggle equiv.))
paisley? depict Prince but through use of various size paisleys. High difficulty, high likelihood of getting arrested before you can complete it, high sense of crushing underwhelm should you actually complete it
parmesanic? depicts the Sports Night “all covered in cheese” gaffe scene (in powder cheese)

Google Image Search Result #13 for "sports night all covered in cheese"

parchesic? like one of those life-size chessboards, but for dumbs
analgesic? replace this lawn with a special blend– part bluegrass, part St. Augustine, part morphine
therapeutic? with each step upon this lawn, years and miles melt off. All your damage, both mental and physical, is repaired. You breathe easier; you feel at home in your body for the first time. You no longer care about when your life will track right. You no longer care that you no longer care. You lay down on the lawn. You
bathic? soak it up, I mean in, I mean soak in this, I mean drown. I don’t know what bathos is.
bronze partly hate to see the lawn grow, so just like your baby shoes…

Ok, I’m done.


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