Q: Dear 100 Hour Board,
What kind of candy do you give out on Halloween?
-Knight Mayor
A:
Dear Sir Older,
This year I bought glow-in-the-dark temporary tattoos of ghosts and pumpkins. I keep trying to tell myself that this will make us the favorite house on the block. I'm pretending not to remember that when I was a kid, I was disappointed by anything that didn't have at least 8 grams of sugar in it.
Yours, &c.
Heidi Book
A:
Dear Knight Mayor,
Once upon a Halloween my mom allowed my friends and I to rule the house with no adult supervision.
At first we just passed out the candy that my mom had left for us—your typical Hershey's, Crunch bars, Reese's, etc. But evidently we got a little too enthusiastic with the amounts of chocolate we were distributing, because soon the giant bowl of candy was gone.
What were we to do? We were a group of 15-year-olds and none of us had a driver's license, so buying more candy was out of the question. But we certainly couldn't turn down all those cute trick-or-treaters.
To the pantry we went! We pulled out all sorts of things—graham crackers, ketchup packets, granola bars, bags of popcorn, etc., which we then handed out to all the little ghosts and fairies that knocked on our door.
Meanwhile, a few streets down, my mom sat handing out candy with her friend, Christa. After a little while, a 10-year-old from our ward knocked on Christa's door, and he and my mom had a conversation that went something like this:
MOM: Oh hey, Mitchell! How is your Halloween going?
MITCHELL: Great! Thanks, Sister Viennasmom!
*Suddenly, Vienna's mom notices a packet of taco seasoning sticking out amidst the chocolate and goodies in Mitchell's candy bowl.*
MOM: What in the world! Where in heaven's name did you get a packet of taco seasoning from?
MITCHELL: YOUR HOUSE!
*Vienna's mom stares dumbstruck at little Mitchell and immediately reaches for her cellphone.*
In case you're wondering, that was the last Halloween that my friends and I were given free reign over the house.
Love,
Vienna
A:
Dear quasimordor,
Last year I was cleaning up from a dinner at a church where a trunk-or-treat was taking place. As I was loading things into my trunk, people began approaching me. What could I do? I gave 'em all onions.
The tears came later, I assume.
--Ardilla Feroz
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