I don’t believe it! There is still more than a week to go to Halloween, yet premature junior beggars in ridiculous costumes are still knocking on my door demanding that I give things to them.
Last night, a gaggle of scruffy little urchins arrived carrying specially designed pumpkin-orange buckets with swirly black ghosts printed on them. The deep receptacles looked as though they could hold a lot of treats. Some enterprising manufacturer of cheap plastic rubbish is making a lot of money this year.
I had given in to my better judgement earlier in the week and bought a packet of Custard Creams from the local Spend and Save (a supermarket for common people) to hand out to the brighter local children who had learned to use politeness when robbing you with threats. However, when I offered one of the delicious biscuits to a tiny boy with a runny nose who looked like he could have done with a good meal, he looked at me in earnest confusion and said, ‘Um, no thanks.’ I was flabbergasted.
One of his companions who was slightly older and much uglier – he looked like his parents often left him to play outside in the road, chasing parked cars with his face – stared at me in disgust and shook his head slowly as if to imply that I had committed some despicable act against humanity. I considered myself lucky to escape a serious egging; I fancy they felt rather sorry for me.
This morning, I have been searching the internet for a company that will sell me a Taser. When I get the inevitable knocks on the door later this week, I plan to leap out and zap the little bastards.
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Nap, try living in a flat in a gated community then it won’t happen anymore. I don’t get it. I just get burgled.
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