Halloween went off without a hitch. My Lone Ranger was so flawless, I picked up an Indian sidekick by the end of the night. I laughed and had a good time with the whole thing. We acted out elaborate vignettes about the Lone Ranger and Tonto that were entertaining (remind me to tell you the one about the mail-order squaw), educational (yes, we tackled the sticky subject of date rape), and terrifying (Tonto had a hook for a hand and he swung it with abandon). It was Eduterritainment, and the people were eating it up like alphabet soup.
Finally, the end of the evening came. I gave Tonto a big handshake and said, "You were great tonight, man. If I ever need a sidekick for this costume, I will seek you out." He teared up a little when I said that last part. He grabbed me by the shoulders and said, "This no costume for me. I come home with Kemosabe." I laughed a little, and said "Ha, that's pretty funny." He just sat there, stone-faced. At this point, I started running around the party screaming, "What the crap?! What the crap?! What the crap?!" Everyone thought this was just another of our Eduterritainment skits, and, being so impressed with my dedication to my role, they all began applauding and throwing money at me. I collected the money and searched for some of those paper things you roll quarters up with as I continued to scream.
After the money had been collected, I went to hide in the bathroom of the club until "Tonto" left. I crouched there for 6 hours, trying not to cry, lest his hawk-like ears detect me. As the sun came up, I decided it was time to leave the toilet and haul buns to the exit. I tiptoed out from my hidey hole, towards the door. I had just about made it to the outside when I felt his heavy, deranged hand on my shoulder. "We go home now, KemoSabe." I started to argue, but then, he took out a big knife and began to stroke my scalp with it. He was not a man to be trifled with.
He's been here now for 36 hours. He somehow found some horses to rope to my patio, and he seems pretty determined on starting a campfire in my living room. Also, he won't let me take my costume off. It smells like smoke, booze, and fear. Also, a little like pee, because I'm too scared to go to the bathroom. He says that tomorrow morning, we search for bad men. I can only hope my neighbors complain about his habit of trapping their housepets and then trying to sell the pelts, or I may never be seen again. The super authentic Halloween costume is a double edged sword, friends.
Posted by Cody at November 2, 2003 9:52 PM