So many children in wonderful costumes. There were vampires, princesses, fairies, werewolves, and yes, even a Frankenstein and a few Igors. All running around from door to door. Laughing and trading candy. You couldn’t imagine a more perfect Halloween night. After watching the street for a few minutes, Santa and Fizzle couldn’t wait to knock on their first door. They went to the house closest to them. It was a nice home. Two stories. Skeletons hung from the trees. Cobwebs on the windows. It was a proper Halloween house.
“Ho! Ho!“ Santa began to speak in his deep booming voice. Fizzle jammed his elbow hard in Santa’s back. Fizzle jumped in “Trick-or-Treat!” Santa coughed and followed with a “Trick-or-Treat” of his own. They held their pillowcases out with ginormous smiles.
“Oh my! What a big boy you are! And interesting costume” the nice lady said to Santa in astonishment. “Who do you belong to? I haven’t seen you around here before” Everyone knew everyone in a small town like Alone and she definitely would have seen him around town if he was from there. Fizzle quickly said “he is visiting the LaMountains! He is a cousin from Albany, on the other side of the mountain. He is a LaMountain from over the mountains.” This was good quick thinking by Fizzle. He knew the LaMountains were a big family and people wouldn’t question a relative visiting. It worked.
“Well, go on, you two,” she said as she dropped two full-sized Snicker bars into their bags.
As they walked away Santa whispered to Fizzle. “That was too close. I don’t know if I can NOT do the Ho! Ho! Ho! Thing. You had better say trick-or-treat first from now on.” Fizzle agreed.
House after house, their trick-or-treating went splendidly. They got more full-sized candy bars, the same big-boy comments, and more “where are you from” questions. By now, Santa and Fizzle had their story down. No more “Ho! Ho! Ho!”s. No one suspected who they really were.
Then out of nowhere, “Hey fatty!” a shout came at them. They turned to see a small group of older kids. Maybe 13, maybe 14. “Hey old man!” shouted one of the kids. You are right, they were not nice children. Almost all the children in Alone are good kids but there are always a few bad apples in the bunch, as they say. “You are going to eat all the candy in all of Alone. Go away and save some for us”. These were not nice kids. They weren’t trick-or-treating either. They didn’t have bags for candy, they had backpacks instead. Backpacks full of mischief.
The backpacks carried things more for tricking than for treating. Three rolls of toilet paper, 12 rotten eggs, and one can of foamy shaving cream. That was their trick-or-trick kit. The older kids mostly tricked each other. You would see some kids with shaving cream all over their heads and shoulders. Toilet paper thrown through tree branches. And eggs. Eggs were saved for the other older kids they really wanted to get. Old rotten eggs.
“Hey- old man!” a kid shouted. Santa turned to the shout and whamp… he got an egg to the chest. The egg exploded and ran down Santa’s chest. And stink! It was a really rotten egg. Santa was shocked. He wasn’t sure what had just happened. “Why did you do that?” Santa asked.
Then whack! Another egg hit Santa in the chest. Some of the older children laughed as they watched.
Some eggs were thrown at Fizzle too. He was very quick and was able to dodge them all. He was an elf after all. Fizzle shouted “Stop this now. You are not being nice.”
Then another egg.
“Stop that! What are you doing? Not one more egg or you will be sorry” Fizzle warned them.
Santa’s anger was climbing. “You are starting to get on my naughty list” he said. They just laughed harder at this. They did not know who they were messing with.
Finally, an egg found Santa’s face. Splat! Right on the forehead. Egg slowly dripped down his nose and around his eyes. Fizzle froze at this sight. A bad feeling was growing in his stomach. He knew something bad was about to happen.
“Aaaaahhhhh!” a sound came out of Santa low and slow. The eggs stopped flying. Then a yell so loud it shook the ground “AAAHHH!” Santa roared. He had had enough. “You will pay for this” he shouted pointing at the egg throwers. “You will pay! No more presents you rotten fools. No more presents. From this day and forever. Forever you will get no presents. Nothing! You rotten kids! You are as rotten as these eggs” Santa was shaking now. You have never seen someone so angry.
“Potatoes! Rotten smelling potatoes. That’s what you will get. From now to forever.” Santa looked around. All the trick-or-treaters were now staring at Santa. They still didn’t realize it was Santa Claus. He looked at them with tears in his eyes. More laughter broke out from the naughty kids. Santa looked slowly around. Did he think all the children were laughing? I don’t know. But I know he looked at all the children there and screamed “Every child. Every child will get rotten potatoes”.
Fizzle tugged on Santa’s toga and pleaded “No, Santa. Not every child. It is just a few naughty kids. Not everyone.” It was too late. Santa was now more human than magic. Face red. Eyes as big as saucers. Have you ever been that mad? I hope not.
