I know it’s four days post trick-or-treatery, and I apologize for the delay in issuing my seasonal report. It’s not laziness, there’s just been so very much to report on. It was a fantastically busy day.
We put on our clever disguises and headed for more festive places. Patrick was a most convincing elephant, Dominic was a mild chili pepper and I was a rare soft-clawed leopard. Good start, no?
We started with the Woodland Park Zoo’s Pumpkin Prowl. With how flawless our costumes were, I was a little scared the zoo would mistake us for critters and lock us up, but it went okay.
There were so many Tiggers, Spider Men, lady bugs, giraffes, fairies and pseudo-scary creatures of the night. It was like everyone had the same idea as me.
As a leopard myself I got to meet a real live lion. I was a little apprehensive because he was real and I was just a dude in a costume.
We met nice people, got free candy, saw the spider exhibit and thousands of Jackie lanterns and even saw gravity defying jugglers.
If you wanna prowl for pumpkins yourself, just go in anytime you like, as long as it’s right before next Halloween… and you have tickets.
But with disguises as clever as these, we couldn’t go home just yet. We set out to perpetrate the crime of the century. Read my chocolate soaked lips; the word is “candy.”
When a leopard and an elephant come knocking on your door, what would you pay to make them go away? Suburban folk don’t have tranquilizer darts handy, my plan was fool proof. Put away your cash and gems people, we’re here for the candy.
Door to door, street to street, our reign of fear worked masterfully. Patrick said “trick or treat” but I remained still, staring silently as cats do. Elephants may talk but soft clawed leopards plainly do not.
I’m not used to the knock and jog concept, so I kept spacing out and trying to go inside. It was great though, nothing doubles your candy haul like a wild feline forcing his way into a living room. I was on a mission, and mission accomplished let me tell you.
Once we had all our overstuffed bags could handle and our paws would carry us no more, we headed back to our lair to assess our haul. We took the disguises off and put them on our bears and bunnies, vowing not to be seen in them again. If a witness points the police back to our house, we can pin it all on them and they won’t say a word.
Perhaps my evil genius training isn’t so far off course after all.