The Pineville Halloween Haunted Trailer Festival 2010
By John Dawson
It’s Fall – or Autumn if you were raised that way – and the tree population of Pineville’s undergoin’ its yearly ritual of sheddin’ all their ocher, crimson, and gamboge appendages and cloggin’ up my gutters. Aunt Mary says clogged gutters are like clogged arteries – you don’t want ‘em if you can help it – so I either got to drag the ladder out or go to Home Depot to see if any Mexicans are lookin’ for gutter work today. I got more autumn leaves around here than Roger Williams in concert.
Fall also means that one day all of a sudden – boom - it ain’t three o’clock anymore, it’s two o’clock because it either gets darker later or lighter earlier or whatever it is. Twice a year the government messes with Father Time, which, if you ask me, ain’t good. Thomas Jefferson’d be tossin’ and turnin’ in his grave knowing that the republic’s fooling with the sleep patterns of the citizenry – wreakin’ havoc with our dang REM periods - just so big business can squeeze an extra hour of labor out of ‘em. So in the genteel spirit of civil disobedience – ever since I read Thoreau I’d been itchin’ to do some - I never set my clock back. But everybody who knows me in the winter just figures I’m gonna be an hour early for everything so it all works out.
I was strollin’ through Pay-More the other day lookin’ for some Halloween trick-or-treats I can eat myself – maybe some little Hershey bars with almonds, the dog won’t eat the plain kind – and who do I see lurkin’ in the Jelly, Peanut Butter and Salad Dressing aisle but the intrepid barrister of Pine Street, Hiram Socrates Peabody III. He’s glarin’ at the Smuckers jars like he’s fixin’ to poke a hole in their alibis.
One time I was negotiatin’ with The Mensa Review on a little piece I’d done for ‘em – they decided not to take it - and asked Hiram if he knew what exactly Scandinavian rights were. Next thing I know he calls me up from Copenhagen
“Yo, friend.”
“Howdy Hiram, but I don’t need any advice today.”
“I was just gonna inquire if you’re planning to write about the Halloween Haunted Trailer Festival like you did last year.”
“Why?” I go, although that’s exactly what I’m plannin’ to do.
“Well, some gal sued the pants off Stephen King up in Maine the other day because his last book was so scary she had a heart attack durin’ Chapter Three when The Thing broke into the little boy’s bedroom and filtered into his brain. Just so you know.”
Hiram doesn’t care if everybody in Pineville gets their brains invaded, he just wants to sue somebody’s insurance company.
“Well, I’ll put a disclaimer in sayin’ nervous people ought not to be readin’ it, but I can’t help it if somebody with a stupid aorta ailment gets ahold of it.”
“Well, your insurance company…”
I see where he’s goin’ with this.
“The best I can do for somebody who goes apoplectic from readin’ my story is to visit ‘em in the hospital and maybe take ‘em a few agapanthuses from Aunt Mary’s yard.”
“That’s a publicus editio officium!”
“She won’t mind.”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m just tryin’ to keep you out of trouble.”
Well, the more trouble I get in, the better it is for Hiram and he knows it. I’m surprised he don’t buy me a bottle of whiskey and some narcotics and encourage me to race around town with a bunch of underage girls in a stolen car with a corpse in the trunk.
So anyway, I pick up my junior Hersheys and some miniature Paydays – the dog’s nuts about ‘em – and as I’m headin’ toward the checkout deal here comes Emma Hogg shufflin’ down the aisle. Emma’s a good old gal but sadly, she don’t see all that well anymore. She stops in front of a sign with a gal holdin’ a jar of mustard and goes “Howdy there Sally, what a pretty yellow hat!” to it.
Behind me, I hear a 24 ounce Smuckers Strawberry Preserves jar crashin’ to the floor and oozin’ out all over the aisle, and I look back and see Hiram with his hands behind his back, whistlin’ The Perry Mason Theme. Slip and Fall was his continuing education credit last year.
In researchin’ this story for you – basically, I went to the library and got Halloween for Dummies – I found out that of all people, it’s the Irish who’re responsible for most of our Halloween traditions. Yep, Old Paddy O’Malley and his cohorts on the Emerald Isle evidently had a dark side to balance out all the times they were dancin’ jigs and kissin’ the Blarney stone or whatever they do.
Jack-o-lanterns, for one. To hear ‘em tell the tale, one day this boy named Jack was walkin’ around County Cavan and he runs smack into the Devil himself who was lurkin’ behind a bush. So bein’ in a devilish or playful mood I guess, old Diabhal made Jack dig up a turnip and hollow it out and put a candle in it to make a lantern. And if that wasn’t enough, he – Diabhal – put the voodoo or somethin’ on Jack so he had to tote the dang thing around the rest of his life. It sounds to me like there’s a nip or two of Irish whiskey involved in Hibernian folklore, but that’s the legend the Halloween honchos agree on. So Jack came to be known as Seac a lochrann m’t Tornapa, which means “the rummy with the lit-up turnip.”
Thereupon and thereafter, the Irish started stickin’ candles up their turnips to ward off the devil. But how we got over the centuries from candles in turnips in Eire to candles in pumpkins in Pineville, I can’t say with certainty, and neither can the Halloween hypothesists. You know how hazy history is. Maybe Tim and Tessie O’Toole ran out of turnips and had some spare plump pumpkins layin’ around the patch, poked a candle in ‘em and started a pumpkin craze, who knows. Anyway, when the Irish emigrated over here to the Melting Polyglot they brought the tradition with ‘em and there you go.
Another ancient Irish tradition is that on 31ú Deireadh Fómhair all the zombies from the afterworld show up at your house without any notice, like your in-laws on Sunday just before supper. To make ‘em feel at home – Irish are superstitious yet polite people – they started dressin’ up like witches and gremlins so the dead ‘uns wouldn’t feel underdressed I guess. Plus fixin’ up a bowl of Irish stew for ‘em and bakin’ green cookies. That’s where we get the scary costume deal – Lady Gag-a is popular this year - and gooey goodies for the ghouls.
Candy corn, in case you’re wonderin’ which I was, was invented in1880 by a chemist who had a bunch of sugar and corn syrup and binders and orange and yellow food colorin’ layin’ around. It’s the official Halloween candy, too, accordin’ to the Brach International Candy Conglomerate, who say they sell enough candy corn every year to circle the earth 4.25 times if the kernels were laid end to end. How they figured that out, I don’t know, but obviously they got a bean/corn counter on the staff who needs somethin’ to do.
Trick-or-treating comes from Ireland
Yep, the lil’ rapscallions get bloodthirsty on Halloween –Aunt Mary says sugar and poor parenting have a lot to do with it – but I don’t know. Kids are vindictive little beasts in the first place. I remember one Halloween when I was a lil’ nipper and asked her if I could raid my sack for a piece of fudge and she goes no, you’ll spoil your dinner. And I go no, I won’t. And she goes yes, you will. And I go dang it Aunt Mary, I know my own stomach better than you do. And she says don’t sass me, boy, now get out of the kitchen. So I went and put a lizard in her bed and it ameliorated me up just fine. But don’t tell her I told you that, she still don’t know it was me.
In Scotland Ireland Elm City
Anyway, turn your lights down low…lock the doors… get you a heaping bowl of candy corn…and prepare to be frightened out of your dang wits because I’m fixin’ to tell you about this years annual Haunted Trailer Festival, and I’d like to take this opportunity to advise you that I ain’t in no way responsible for your weak heart. You should have stopped smoking years ago and gotten more exercise. Plus, if they allowed people to sue authors for scarin’ the pants off people, Stephen King’d be drivin’ a bus in Bangor
The Haunted Trailer Festival is one of the highlights of Fall. What happens is, out at Pineville Village everybody picks a different spooky theme to decorate their trailers with and then all the kiddies come around and get the bejabbers scared out of their lil’ fairy-princess and pirate selves. The parents consider it payback for all the perturbation they put ‘em through the rest of the year, and although they don’t necessarily want to give the tots psychological scars for the rest of their lives, they ain’t averse to a few nightmares to keep ‘em on their toes. It’s all in good fun.
Last year, you might remember Dr. Blood’s Pediatrics Office. Or Karen Sue and Kenny Bob’s Frankenstein Escapes From the Lab and Drowns the Little Girl in the Pond. Or Stuck on a Desert Island Paris
So like every year, the weeks leadin’ up to the Big Night had everybody thinkin’ up ideas for this year’s spectacular spooktacular. Joyce Ann and Calvin Estes III – Junior’s oldest brother - were just about decided on Mother Turns Into An Insane Cat. Frank and Dee-Dee Franklin thought Daddy Gets Laid Off And We Have To Move Into A Cardboard Box was good. Ann and Andy Anderson were plottin’ out the storyboards for Creepy Uncle Comes Into Your Room at Night, and Snyder Snavely and his new bride Stephanie were thinkin’ about The Kardashians Move In Next Door.
Pretty much the whole town comes out and joins in the festive, frightful frivolity. Aunt Mary’s always The Cootie Lady, and the old bat walks around sneakin’ itchin’ powder on you when you ain’t lookin’. This year Junior decided to be Global Warming, and he fixed himself up in a Hazmat suit and stashed six cans of yellow spray paint in his pants. Three of the Applebottom girls – Amber, Heather, and Ashley -were debatin’ whether to be The Dixie Chicks in Death or The Three Headed Ex-Wife. Frightenin’ either way, I’m thinkin’.
Part of the fun for the lil’ ghouls is makin’ sure everything’s a surprise, too, so on Halloween mornin’ all the parents lock ‘em in their rooms so they can’t peek at the preparations.
Out at the home, the old folks always choose a famous old movie and dress up like the characters and go out to the park and hand out treats. This year they’re doin’ The Wizard of Oz. Theodore’s Tin Man, because he’d sold aluminum siding door-to-door forty years ago and knows the lingo. Chet said he could be the Cowardly Lion because he already had feet sewed into his jammies and he could just paint some whiskers on. Elsie’s gonna be The Scarecrow because she’s hated birds ever since she was a lil’ girl and her Aunt Polly’s parrot Pickles poked her on the snout.
There was a big rhubarb though, because both Mildred and Beatrice wanted to be Dorothy. Mildred suggested that Beatrice, in her opinion, kind of took after the Wicked Witch of the East so that might be a better part for her. Beatrice intimated that she thought Mildred would be perfect for one of them flyin’ monkeys. (Ever since the Easter King and Queen Pageant, there’s been bad, iron-poor blood between them two.)
So they called in Miss Pringle to mediate and – having faced a similar dilemma several years ago when both Chet and Art wanted to be Rhett Butler – she told ‘em why can’t there just be two Dorothies? Well, nobody’d thought of that, which I guess is why Miss Pringle is such a good mediator. She’s read all of Jimmy Carter’s books, you know.
I don’t think even Stephen King himself could’ve imagined up a better Halloween night for the Haunted Trailer Festival. The full moon was shinin’ through the bare branches of the trees, the owls were hooty-hootin’ and the ravens were quothin’ on everybody’s windowsills. The ebon sky was smack full of flyin’ witches, howlin’ wolves with slaverin’ jaws were huddled in the forest, and the graveyard was bustlin’ with black cats and zombies clawin’ their way up through the forsaken sod and gettin’ up and takin’ a gander around.
Well, I decided to go as a distinguished Nobel Prize winnin’ author this year, so I got a black turtleneck and a tweed jacket on and I’m jockeyin’ a pipe around my dang mouth. Me and The Cootie Lady –The Cootie Lady and I if you prefer - decided to go to the De Drop because she wanted a lil’ pre-Fest nip, and we ran into The Invisible Man and The Creature from the Black Lagoon sittin’ up at the bar playin’ quarters with Jack the Ripper. The place was packed with so many fiendish characters it looked like Hieronymus Bosch’s attic. Of course everybody was in a festive mood and gettin’ in the Halloween spirit – or spirits, to be more accurate – and fixin’ to go out to the Park and see all the attractions.
It was grand night for fiends, goblins, ghouls, ghosts, ogres, grotesque gargoyles, gremlins and bad old boogymen. (The author acknowledges the assistance of Peter Roget with the precedin’ sentence.)
Trina was on the microphone.
“Boooooooo! Booooooo! Double boo, y’all! Welcome to the Pineville Village
All the lil’ pirates, ghosts, Ninja Turtles, fairy princesses, Batmen, Ariel the Mermaids, clowns, Lady Gag-as, Power Rangers and XMen and Spidermen and what all come stampedin’ and bansheein’ out, all hypered up the knowledge that pretty soon they’ll be eatin’ candy till they puke.
“Now, y’all be careful out there, kids, we don’t need anybody goin’ to the Emergency Room tonight. And parents, watch your kids we ain’t responsible for ‘em. The Nurses station is set up in Karen Sue’s trailer up from the dumpster over there and we got plenty of smelling salts and Bactine. Now let the fun…I mean the horror…Boooo!...begin! Ah ha ha ha ha ha!”
All the kiddies tear up to the first attraction, Hannah Montana Has Car Trouble.
You walk in and it’s pitch dark and loud thumpin’ music’s playin’. The lights slowly dimmer up and there’s a Hannah doll on a ping-pong table painted up to look like a street. It’s got a bunch of tiny buildings and streetlights and cars and everything, and Hannah’s sayin’ “Oh, darn this car! A dead battery, on like Halloween of all nights! I’ll have to take a walk on this dark, deserted street to find help. I think I’ll sing!”
“No, Hannah, no!”
“No, Hannah, don’t go!”
“Sing Let’s Get Crazy, Hannah!”
And then…. the lights go off!
All the kids shriek and the music pulsates louder and louder and all of a sudden there’s a po-liceman standin’ there, and he tells the kids Hannah went that-a-way, right down the alley here, and they better not follow her because it’s too dangerous.
“No it ain’t!”
“We want Hannah!
Well, he goes, okay come walk this way kiddies, and he points his flashlight down a dark alley.
They’re gropin’ their way down the hall when they start hearin’ sirens and burglar alarms and police radio talk and gunshots.
“Br-r-r-r-r-ringgggggggggg. Pow! Pow! Errrrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiii! Calling all cars! Roger! Bang! Bang! (I can’t spell radio static noises so you’ll just have to imagine ‘em.)
So they turn right, and there’s Hannah again on another street, only this time there are three big hoodlum dolls in the shadows followin’ behind her. The poor girl’s lookin’ over her shoulder like she’s a hen at a fox convention.
“Like, Omigod, I’m lost!”
“Go back Hannah!”
“Don’t go, Hannah!”
“Call Robby on your cell, Hannah!”
The music starts throbbin’ even louder and everybody turns another corner and now the hoodlum men dolls are standin’ right up in front of the poor popular pop princess.
“Yo dawg! Peep at da fine ho, I be tellin’ you da trooth dawg!”
“Street slap my fro, bro! Yo dam strate son!
“Hey yo, iz ya trippin’? What chew thinkin’ girl?”
Hannah gulps and starts to softly sing as the lights dim down.
You wake up it’s raining and it’s Monday
Looks like one of those rough days
All the fairy princesses and what not scream again and clutch each other in shared dread, like you do when you’re learnin’ Poe in school.
The po-liceman shines his light into the next room.
“I don’t think you want to go in there, kids.”
There’s all this commotion and screamin’ and Hannah’s goin’ “Help! Help! Save me, please! No! No! Not that! Arggggggghhhhh!” The boom-boom-boom music gets even louder, and naturally the kiddies fall all over themselves tryin’ to get in. Suddenly… the lights come up!
Well, this is where it really gets fun, because a life-size Hannah corpse is layin’ in the street, with her head and arms and legs lopped off! Her insides are spillin’ all out – like somebody got mad at their Invisible Woman model - and blood’s runnin’ all over the floor and the hoodlum dolls are playin’ basketball with her bewigged blonde head and laughin’ and street-talkin’ and carryin’ on! Dang good!
You could tell the kids loved it by all the vomit, and they poured out of the trailer with poor disemboweled Hannah emblazoned on their lil’ psyches. I expect there’ll be some nightmares in Pineville tonight, ha ha! I mean, it would be unfortunate if such a thing happened, of course.
The main road was startin’ to fill up with ghoulishly garbed Pinevillians. Reba Calhoun’s walkin’ around, and what she had done was hollow out a pumpkin and cut a hole in the bottom and put it over her head and fix a hatchet it in, and so she’s The Pumpkin Head Woman. She’s waddlin’ around, goin’ “My brains are pie now!” and handin’ out slices of pumpkin pie.
Princess Diana in Death was promenadin’ around in a tiara and a pretty white dress all splattered with ketchup, walkin’ up to everybody and sayin’ “I guess I should have took me a cab! Ha ha ha ha!”
The Pineville Psoriasis Society came out too, and they made a fine group of lepers.
Clarence Cheevers had gone over to Janyce’s Hair Apparent and got his hair thinned out real good, dyed strawberry-blonde, teased up ‘bout three feet and two cans of hair spray on it and he was Donald Trump. Dang gruesome, although he was handin’ out Millionaire bars.
Next up was The Pineville Snatcher. Everybody scuttles in and settles down and the lights come up. There’s a freckle-faced kid sittin’ at the kitchen table eatin’ a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios and readin’ a comic book while his mommy’s messin’ with the laundry.
“I’m going to go put the clothes in the dryer now, Joshua,” says Mommy, and Joshua says “OK, Mommy,” and Mommy leaves with the unmistakable sigh of a former Prom Queen reduced to this.
Creepy building music, you know, like Jaws, starts up and you see the ghastly gruesome face of a man peepin’ in the window. He’s frothin’ at the mouth and his eyes are all crazy and he’s lickin’ his lips. He climbs in the open window and sneaks up behind Josh and grabs him!
“Scream, Josh!
“Mommy, come back!
“Mommy, hurry!”
But poor Josh can’t scream because The Snatcher’s got him in a chokehold, and all he can muster up is a silent scream like you do when you’re dreamin’ about your mother-in-law. He slings Josh over his shoulder and carries him, kickin’ and flailin’, out the back door.
“Ah ha ha ha ha!”
Mommy comes back with a basketful of clothes.
“Joshua….Josh? Oh, where did that boy go?”
The lights go out!
Everybody gets herded into the next room, the lights come up and a little girl’s playin’ with her dollhouse. Daddy’s wearin’ a tweed jacket and smokin’ a pipe – he’s a distinguished author - and he goes “Well, Emily, I’m going to go watch some educational TV now, OK?”
“Sure, Daddy. I love you.”
“I love you too, Snookins.”
The spooky music starts again, and The Pineville Snatcher appears in the window!
“Watch out, Emily!
“Emily, the window!”
“Emily, call Daddy!”
But Emily acts like she don’t hear ‘em, and she keeps foolin’ with her dollhouse. The Snatcher climbs in, sneaks up behind Emily and snatches her up and jumps out the window!
Dad comes back holding a cup.
“I made you some cocoa, sweetheart!”
But she’s not there, and he gets a puzzled look on his face like he can’t figure out
how to finish Chapter Eighteen.
“Honey…Emily? Emily?”
“Daddy, the Snatcher got her!”
“Quick, out the window, before he gets away!”
But Daddy – writers are basically befuddled most of the time - acts like he don’t hear ‘em and takes a sip of Emily’ cocoa and scratches his head.
The lights go out!
So they trot all the trepidated tots into the next room and when the lights come up, Joshua and Emily are tied up in chairs, and The Snatcher’s creepin’ around, rubbin’ his hands together and cacklin’ like a chicken on laughing gas. He pulls out a machete and brandishes it this way and that.
“Boo!”
“Bad Snatcher!”
“Well, Joshie boy, what do you think about little boys who don’t clean up their rooms?” He starts bawlin’ and says “I was going to Mr. Snatcher, honest I was!”
“Emily, you spilled your milk at breakfast yesterday, didn’t you?”
“But…but…I didn’t mean to,” and the poor lil’ thing begins to cry.
“I’ll teach you what happens to lazy, clumsy children!”
The lights go off!
You hear these loud chop-chop-choppin’ noises, Josh and Emily are screamin’ like the dickens, and strawberry Kool-Aid and raw cut-up chicken parts come flyin’ out and splashin’ on everybody. All the little Ariel the Mermaids and pirates and ghosts scream and scram out of the trailer, with a fresh resolve to clean their rooms and not spill their milk at dinner. Another good one! And a good lesson for the kiddies, too.
About this time, the bus from the Old Folks Home pulls up, and out steps The Tin Man, The Cowardly Lion, the Scarecrow, the Good Witch, the Bad Witch, the Wicked Witch, some other Witch I didn’t recognize – maybe a Neutral Swedish Witch - flyin’ monkeys, the Wiz himself, two Dorothys – if you’ve never seen two identical bespectacled pigtailed old ladies side by side sportin’ blue gingham dresses and totin’ picnic baskets, it’s a sight – and the little dog Toto too. The two Dorothies were arguin’ about who got to tote Toto in tow.
Out in the street, Floyd was doin’ his Halloween special, Throw-Up Man. 7:00 he threw up red; at 7:30 , he threw up blue; and by 8:30 he was spewin’ some of the most spectacular purple puke you ever saw. It was like somebody dumped a case of grape Jell-O down Old Faithful .
Well, next up was Grandma’s Candy Apple Shoppe. You walk in and there’s Trina, all white hair and glasses and dentures and wrinkles and she’s rockin’ back and forth with some knitting on her lap.
“Hello, children, don’t you all look lovely, come on in and keep Grandma company for a while,” and so they sat down on the floor.
“Would you like a treat? I have some lovely candy apples here!”
“No, grandma,” they all go. Their mommies had told ‘em about that poor kid a hundred years ago who got a razor blade in his candy apple one time.
Well, the whole deal was a trick because yesterday, Trina had told Billy Butts that if he’d play along with her Halloween attraction and if he could keep a secret, she’d bake him a banana pie. Billy, bein’ the rapacious lil’ toad he is, agreed quicker than you can say whipped cream.
“Aw hell, I’ll take a candy apple, Grandma,” he goes, she gives him one, and the other kids are yellin’ “No, no, Billy, don’t eat it!”
But Billy says “Aw, I ain’t scared,” and takes a big old bite. Everybody’s starin’ wide-eyed at him, and he takes another bite and rubs his tummy and goes “Umm, yummy, Grandma!”
So the kids figure it’s safe and they all ask Grandma if they can have one too, so she hands ‘em out and they all start munchin’ on ‘em.
“Wow, this is awesome, grandma!”
“Grandma, can I have another one when I’m done?”
Well, ‘bout halfway through his apple, Billy reaches down in his pants and pulls out a capsule of Karo syrup that Trina’d dyed red and given him yesterday and he puts it in his mouth and bites down. He screams and drops his apple and that red Karo syrup starts gushin’ out of his mouth. He’s flailin’ his fat lil’ feet and clutchin’ his throat and makin’ gaggin’ and chokin’ noises like he swallowed a five-legged cat. As the aghast children look on, he flops around on the floor, death-throein’ like nobody’s business and he goes all stiff and rolls his eyeballs up in his head.
“Ha ha ha! By cracky! Greedy little whippersnappers! That’ll teach you to play Doorbell Ditch on Grandma!“
All the lil’ Spidermen and Lady Gag-as scream and drop their apples and leap up and run out the door to go find their mommies, regurgitatin’ apple pieces up on the way out. Messy, but you get that at Halloween sometimes. And a good reminder to the kiddies to always have mama check your candy apples when you get home.
The next attraction was Dallas
Every little girl except daughters of feminists wants to be a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader, so all the lil’ girls pile in and sit on some bleachers. Stephanie Estes sashays on out wearin’ a glitterin’ sweatsuit, and her blonde hair’s piled higher than Donald Trump.
“Hi girls, welcome to the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders Training Camp! I’m Coach Miss Debbie Ann Stephens, and this is where we audition girls for the squad! How about a big howdy, y’all!”
“Howdy Miss Debbie!”
“Now girls, if you make good grades, go to church, do good works in the community and look good in hot pants, maybe someday you can be a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader too!”
“Yay!
“I wanna be a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader, Miss Debbie!”
“Me too!”
“And now, let me introduce you to a few members of this years squad!”
“Yay!”
So out comes four Puma cheerleaders, Kim Applebottom, Brianna Beavers, Cecelia Estes, and Dorita Lynn Rushmore, and they had on exact Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders uniforms – what there is of ‘em - and were all glitzied up just like the real deal. Better, in fact, if you ask me.
Yep, and although I personally would have preferred to stay outside and get some fresh air – it was gettin’ a little warm in there – I put the interests of my readers first and wedged in the door so I could get a better look. For my atmosphere, you know.
“Hi young ladies, I’m Heather!
“Hello girls, I’m Candy!”
“Hey y’all, my name is Veronica!”
“And I’m Debralynn!
They kick their legs up and whirl their hair around and jiggle their pom poms.
All the little Cinderellas are goin’ nuts at seein’ the famous cheerleaders right here in Pineville. They’ve noticed how close Dad watches ‘em on TV too, and all little girls want to grow up to make their daddies proud of ‘em.
“Now girls,” Debbie Ann goes, “grooming and poise are very important if you want to be a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader. So we’re going to show you how the girls prepare in their dressing room before the game! Walk this way!”
“Yay!”
Well, although I personally don’t have any interest in the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders dressing room, my readers demand facts, so I follow all the little trick-or-treaters into the next room, which is all set up with mirrors and lights and those ballet bar deals you see at dance class, which I had to go to when I was a lil’ nipper myself which I’m still mad about that. But anyway, it was all sparkly blue and white with a lot of stars taped to the walls, and there was enough make-up and combs and brushes and girl groomin’ aids and stuff on the tables to outfit all the women in Pine County
The cheerleaders are sittin’ down in front of the mirrors and they’re all gabbin’ and primpin’ on their hair.
“Like what’s that, Heather?”
“Oooh, Veronica, that’s my new like hairspray. Want to like try it?”
“Awesome!” And the other cheerleaders go “Me too, I want to try it too!”
They pass the hairspray around and they all pssst it on.
Environmentalists tell us that aerosol cans ain’t good and who all knows what kind of gunk they put into hair spray too. But Junior posited to me later that if environmentalists looked better in hot pants, they’d be mindin’ their own business and leavin’ the poor aerosol people alone.
“Veronica, do you think our little guests would like some of our hairspray too?”
“Yay!”
“Please, please Heather, give us some Dallas Cowboys cheerleader hairspray!”
Heather hands the can out to the girls and they all start sprayin’ each other’s hair and gigglin’ and imaginin’ that they, too, are famous Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders.
Candy’s beamin’ at herself in the mirror and brushin’ her long blonde hair, and all of a sudden, she goes “Oh…my….God!” and she screams in horror and disbelief like Tony Romo just threw an interception in the end zone.
“What’s the matter Candy?” the other cheerleaders cry out in unison, and all the lil’ girls catch their breath and look up with their mouths open wide enough to stick a pom-pom in.
“Look!” Candy reaches up to her hair a pulls a big old chunk of hair right off her head!
“Arrrrgghhhh!”
Then Veronica screams, turns around and reaches up to her head, and her bangs fall plumb off! Then Debralynn grabs a fistful of her hair and it comes right off too!
So the cheerleaders start screamin’ and yankin’ their hair out and pretty soon, they’re all as bald as pie! You’ve never heard such screechin’ and yellin’ and moanin’ and cryin’ and carryin’ on, but then, you’ve never been a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader and suddenly lose all your dang hair. Bald cheerleaders are a sight to see, I guarantee you.
Well, naturally, all the little girls go completely bananas, and lil’ Meghan Armbruster, who’s in on the trick, goes “Oh you guys, it’s just a joke,” and she reaches up and pats her hair and says “We’re all OK,” and then her whole head of hair comes off in her hand and she’s balder than a eagle with eczema, if that ain’t pushin’ my similes too far.
“Eeeeek!!!!!
“Mama!”
The lil’ girls grab their hair and start wailin’ and sobbin’ and peein’ in their pants, tryin’ to imagine a life of alopecia.
Of course, if you ain’t figured it out already, Stephanie went up to the Spencer Gift Shop at the mall and bought those bald cap deals for the cheerleaders and Meghan. Then she went over to Hey Jude’s and got wigs for ‘em, so it wasn’t their real hair that was fallin’ out. It sure was realistic though, and now whenever I look at a cheerleader I wonder what she looks like without any hair.
Well, after that, I think it’s time you had a break, particularly if you’ve been havin’ chest pains the last few minutes. You can resume readin’ about the Festival at any time, because I’ve cleverly constructed the story so that you can put it down at any time and not miss much.
Next up was Karen Sue’s Mommy Fixes Dinner, and all the kiddies crowded on in, drawn by the delicious aroma emanating from the stove. The lights come up and seated around the dinner table are Dad , Chad
“What’s for dinner, mommy?” says lil’ Madison
“A special treat tonight, honey.”
“Goody!”
Dad passes the biscuits .
“Well, I don’t know, since they cut my hours at the plant we’re going to have a hard time. I sure hope we can find a way to put food on the table.”
“Well, Peter, we’ll find a way, honey.”
“Sure we will Daddy!”
“I hope so,” Peter goes, “But I just don’t know. We may have to cut out some things like heat and water.”
“Well dear,” says Mommy, “I will always find a way to put good wholesome food on the table for our beautiful children.”
“Yay, Mommy!”
Mommy brings the pot over to the table and dishes up a nice plate for everybody.
“Yummy! Smells good, Mommy! What is it?”
“Oh, just a new recipe, sweetheart!”
Everybody digs in.
“Yum! Mommy this is good!”
“Delicious, Barb. You sure know your way around the kitchen.”
“I ain’t seen him since this morning when I went to school either.”
“Mommy, where’s Sparky?”
“Oh, I’m sure he’s around here somewhere,” goes Mommy, taking a big bite, “and don’t say ‘ain’t’ Chad
“But I’m worried about him. He never misses dinner, Mommy.”
“Oh, he’s here somewhere,” says Mommy, winkin’ at Daddy.
“Well children, sometimes dogs run away and are never seen again. It’s just a part of life,” goes Daddy.
“Wahhh!” goes Madison
“Mommy, dinner is awesome! Yummy!”
“Barb, will you please pass the A-1 sauce? You know how I like to add a little bite to my meat.”
Barb passes the bottle over to Daddy and he sprinkles it on and takes a big heapin’ mouthful.
“M-m-m, good!”
Then the lights start to dim and spooky music starts playin’.
Pete and Barb exchange evil grins.
“Mommy, I don’t feel so good. I…I….I….Arf!...”
“Grrrrr!” goes Chad
“Now children, mind your manners.”
“Chad
“Arf! Arf! Bow-wow!”
“Yip! Howl!”
“Pant Pant Pant Pant Pant!”
“Now Madison
“Not in here, son, go outside now.”
“Bad Chad Chad
“Now you children come back here and finish your dinner!”
Well, the door swings open again and out trots Karen Sue’s Irish spaniel Taters, and he’s wearin’ a red polka-dot dress just like Madison Chad
“Eek!”
“I’m gonna throw up!”
(Splatter noise)
“Ewwwww!”
All the lil’ kiddies howl and holler and hold on to one another in stunned disbelief about what they just seen happen before their very eyes. Witnessing a transmogrification straight out of the Betty Barker Cookbook will do that to you.
Barb brings some steaming plates over to ‘em.
“Trick or treat kids! Hold out your sacks for some delicious dinner!” And they see all the these dog snouts and ears and what not on the plates swimmin’ in savory canine gravy and onions.
And boy, they scream and holler and hightail it - ha ha! - out of there as fast as their lil’ stubby legs could carry ‘em. Some of ‘em are gettin’ sick in the bushes, and some are runnin’ home to make sure their dogs are safe. Hot dog it was good, Aunt Mary said, gratuitously.
But the old Oz folks weren’t doin’ so well. Mildred was havin’ trouble rememberin’ the words to Over the Rainbow, and she’s wanderin’ all over the place like an addlepated Judy Garland.
Somewhere
Somewhere over
Somewhere over the Rainbow
Lie lemon drops
Bluebirds and pie
Why can’t Bluebirds
And pie
Fly over the chimney tops
Like
A lullaby in the sky?
Why, oh why...
But bless her heart, she means well and not every old lady can talk like a beat poet.
The park emus – Heckel and Jeckel if you don’t know ‘em – well, they’re already spooked up to begin with, and, espyin’ a lion – the bane of emus worldwide - cavortin’ around, they charge toward him with pantheraleocide on their feeble lil’ ratite minds.
Chet – he looked real good in his jammies and whiskers - sees ‘em chargin’ at him and spryly jumps up in a pecan tree.
“Put 'em up, put 'em up! Which one of you first? I'll fight you both together if you want. I'll fight you with one paw tied behind my back. I'll fight you standing on one foot. I'll fight you with my eyes closed...”
But tell you the truth, Chet was bitterly reflectin’ that being a Cowardly Lion ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. If only he’d had brains enough to be The Tin Man when it was offered to him, but no, and now look. An old man like him up a tree bein’ bullyragged by emus in a lion suit.
Well, the final grand attraction is Glen and Aquanetta’s Main Street Parade in Disneyland. You walk in and there you are, right there in the Magic Kingdom Main Street
“Welcome boys and girls, to fabulous, magical Disneyland !
“Yay!”
“I’m Snow White, and welcome to our Main Street Parade, featuring all of your beloved Disney characters!”
“Yay!”
“Awesome, Miss Snow!”
“Yay!”
“So let’s get started! Here come my friends, the Seven Dwarfs!” Glen, backstage, changes the CD to Heigh Ho, It’s Off to Work We Go and sure enough, here they come, the Seven Dwarfs whistlin’ right out of the kitchen! (Where Glen and Aquanetta got seven midgets I can’t figure out, so you’ll have to take my word for it.)
“Hi Kids!”
“Hi Grumpy and Doc! Hi Sneezy! Hi, Dopey!”
“And now, kiddies, here comes Pluto and Goofy! “
They come out yuk-yuk-yukkin’.
“Yay!”
“Hi Goofy!”
“Well, who do we have here? Why, it’s Captain Hook and Tinkerbell!” So out they come, and naturally that delighted all the pirates and fairy princesses. Anyway, this goes on for a while, and the Lion King, Aladdin, Beauty, the Beast, Cinderella, Jiminy Cricket and Hayley Mills and I don’t know who else all come paradin’ out. What a delightful extravaganza!
“And now kids, let’s walk on up Main Street
“Yay!”
Everybody gets up and turns the corner into Glen and Aquanetta’s livin’ room, which is full of popcorn machines and film kiosks and souvenir shops and more Asian tourists messin’ with Minoltas and signs that say “This Way To Frontier Land” and stuff, and all the characters are in their little wagons frolickin’ around while A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes is playin’ on the CD. Snow White cups her hand to her ear:
“What’s that I hear? Why, it’s Mickey Mouse and Minnie comin’ along in the famous Mousemobile!” And you hear the chug-chug-chuggin’ and ah-oogin’ of Mickey’s car.
“Yay!”
“Double Yay!”
“Toot toot! Beep beep! Hi kiddies! It’s me, Mickey Mouse! Here I come!”
“Yay!”
And suddenly… the lights go off!
“Me and Minnie have been havin’ a damn good time today kids, and we’re all hopped up on marijuana and liquor! Wheeeeeee!”
“Mickey, watch o-o-o-o-u-t Mickey!” yells Minnie.
“Uh-oh!” goes Mickey.
The lights go off!
There’s screamin’ and a huge loud crashin’ sound! Bangin’ and collidin’ and screechin’ and car parts bouncin’ on the street. Agonized screams. Spilled gasoline tricklin’ out on the floor. Anguished wailin’.
The kids felt furry stuff and sticky liquid fallin’ over ‘em.
The lights come up!
Right there in front of the Magic Castle
Red Karo syrup was spewin’ out of all the victims and creepin’ toward all the kiddies, who, understandably, were in various stages of agog, aghast, and ashen horror seein’ their cherished cartoon characters all mangled and maimed up like that. Chip and Dale were squeakin’ out their last lil’ chirrups. Huey, Dewey and Louie were ka-blooey. Donald Duck was, it’s my sad duty to report, a dead duck. And there are people who might tell you that if you’ve seen one decapitated dwarf, you’ve seen them all, but I’m not too sure about that. After all, there’s seven of ‘em.
Walt Disney saunters out holdin’ a bong and a Budweiser.
“Hi kids, it’s me, Walt Disney myself! Now let this be a lesson to you, have fun but always drink and use drugs in moderation and choose a designated driver. Ah ha ha ha!”
It’s a Small World starts playin’.
“And don’t forget to take your parents to one of our souvenir shops on your way home! Thanks for visiting the Magic Kingdom
Those poor lil’ kids tore out of that trailer like Michael Jackson was chasin’ em.
Well, like Chad and Jeremy said, all good things must end someday, so afterwhile they’d finished their trick-or-treatin’ and slogged their sacks of lucre back home and – contrary to parental fiat - pigged ‘em down and got a massive tummy ache. I remember once at Halloween, I came home and took my Zorro costume off and dove into my sack. And to this day, I avoid eye contact with them orange circus peanut deals.
Well, the grownup ghouls break out their beverages of choice, and it wasn’t long before the streets were full of fantastical fiends and partyin’ specters.
Barb and Peter were laughin’ about the little X-Men and fairy princesses that seen ‘em eat the family dog.
“The paws that refreshes!” said Peter.
“Chicken poodle soup!” cleverly added Barb.
“Ha ha, honey!”
Walt Disney was invitin’ Hayley Mills over to the Magic Kingdom
The Tin Man and the East Witch were back at Disneyland , gettin’ snockered and arrangin’ all the characters into different positions. You’d be surprised at what seven dwarfs, Tinkerbell and one mermaid can actually do.
The Pineville Snatcher decided it’d be fun to go round to all the kids bedroom windows, knock on ‘em and make gruesome faces, ha ha! What a card.
Donald Trump decided to go out and hitchhike home on Highway 57 where he got picked up by some Irish Travelers and hasn’t been seen since.
Back at the home, The Wiz took a whizz and a Viagra and knocked on Glinda’s door.
Me, I invited Aunt Mary – on the condition that she keep her cooties to herself – over to the house along with Heather, Veronica, Candy, Debralynn, the Three Stooges, the lepers, The Mummy, Throw-Up Man, Daniel Boone, Mary Poppins, Global Warming, Hillary Clinton and O.J. Simpson, and we stayed up all night tellin’ ghost stories and talkin’ about the economy.
The dog, rudely awoken by all the ado, wasn’t too happy about havin’ his REM cycle tampered with, but I told him it was better than bein’ had for dinner. He didn’t seem to think that was very funny, but then again, he wouldn’t.
One last thing, though. If you’re feelin’ an arrhythmic pain in your ventricle valves from readin’ this or you’re already in the Emergency Room, just remember I warned you, which as far as I’m concerned takes me clean off the hook. You don’t put your hand on a hot stove with a sign sayin’ Don’t Touch the Hot Stove, Dummy! do you?
But if you have to, address all complaints and include medical bills and the name of your insurance company to Hiram Socrates Peabody III, General Delivery, Pineville. If your letter comes back, re-address it c/o The Peanut Butter, Jelly, and Salad Dressing Aisle, Pay-More, Pineville. He’ll get it there.
It was a boo-tiful night in Pineville.
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