So far, so good. It's gone 8 o'clock and no sign of child-beggars at my door, asking for free chocolate. Of course, I've switched off the outside light and I'm sitting here under a cloak in case the glow from my computer screen can be seen in the street. You may think this is mean but I'm going by previous experience and, quite frankly, the standard of entertainment these kids provide is shocking. On Halloweens past, I've opened my door to find two 9 year-old brats wearing sheets and holding their hands out expectantly.
"Would you like a song?" they ask.
"That would be great", I reply "Are you familiar with Sunny Afternoon by The Kinks?"
Not ONCE has one of these freeloaders known this Ray Davies classic. Then they ask if I'd like to hear a joke. It's at that point I feel duty-bound to inform them that I'm a professional comic strip writer and anything they come up with better be of an acceptable standard. "Why did the chicken cross the road?" ventured a midget witch once. "Well, my dear", I responded " this is an extremely old joke which has, nevertheless, mutated into several..."------oh,oh. There goes the doorbell.
They'd better be good.