When I turned 18, candy collection started getting much tougher. Little old ladies would lecture me on how I was too old, and some parents even slammed the door right in my face. Such discrimination…



But over the years I worked out a system – I would wear elaborate costumes that would conceal me entirely. When the homeowner tossed me a Milky Way, I would look at it with sorrow, and in my best falsetto reveal that I was sick and had only a week to live. I’d almost always get seconds, and sometimes they’d just dump the whole bowl into my hands and say that I was a brave little man. There are a lot of soft-hearted suckers out there, let me tell you!

I tested and perfected my system over the last decade and so far its yielded sackful upon sackful of the sweet stuff. I use this precious loot to sustain me during the long hours at my job (professional Warcraft consultant).

But this year was different. On my big night, I realized I had a major dilemma on my hands. Yes, I was now 600 pounds and had no teeth. But even worse, none of my old costumes seemed to fit anymore! Strewn on my bedroom floor were years worth of memories—-there, my Jedi robes now ripped to tatters, and there, my latex Captain Picard mask, exploded and fit to command no more. My girth had laid waste to them all.

Even the holy of holies-- my mint condition Batman outfit worn by Adam West, lay there hideously distended and a disgrace to the caped crusader. In desperation, I grabbed a king-sized bedsheet with cut-out eye holes, but when I threw it over my head, it barely flowed down to my regal man-boobs.

I wept, and ate my last pack of milk duds for courage. Man, time sure passes fast when you’re chewing. 7pm rolled around and I was out of ideas.

Just then the doorbell rang and I opened it to a bunch of kids in costume.

“Trick or tr---," they began and then started screaming and pointing at me. “The blob!" they shrieked, dropping their candy and running away.

Now, I get this reaction all the time when I leave my house and so I wasn’t too offended. But as I picked up the scattered candy, I got an idea…

That night, a fearsome blob was seen terrorizing several parts of the town, surprising unsuspecting trick-or-treaters and making off with their candy. The culprit was never caught…

Back in my room, I was jubilant. My bed was piled high with a mountain of Snickers bars and my closet was full to bursting with Reese’s Pieces. I was just about to drink down a mugful of victory Skittles when I glanced out my window and saw a horrifying apparition in my driveway. It was a man who wore a disturbing rabbit costume and stared straight at me. He spoke to me telepathically in a mesmerizing voice, commanding me to come forth. In a daze, I waddled outside into the cold air, utterly hypnotized.

Just then, the jet engine from a 737 crashed from the sky through my roof---right where I had been sitting a moment before! A fireball burst from the house shaking the whole neighborhood. I dived across the grass and scrambled into my Ford Pinto. Dust and debris rained down all around me. This was surely karma. I trembled, and barfed up a rainbow of my ill-gotten gains all over my car floor mats. With tears in my eyes, I looked around for my savior, but he was gone.

The rabbit-man had saved my life. It was a sign.