Halloween was so cliche. Rasmus tried to hate it, but try as he might he just couldn't bring himself to do so. Something about the holiday having become so cliche and overrated that it actually transcended into another spectrum of authenticity that it hadn't seen since the early '90s. At least, that was what Rasmus thought on the matter, in so far as his recollection could be accounted for. Although, if he were being honest with himself (which he was on loose occasion,) 1993 was really annoying, but that was because everyone and their mother/brother/sister/lover was a Power Ranger and there was absolutely nothing original about one hundred kids wearing the same red or pink uniform and shouting Mighty Morphin! at Rasmus when he opened the door.
Now he refused to hand out candy and only offered random fruits and vegetables (only partially moldy) bought on blue light special at the local grocery store and that saved him the trouble of having to spend two hours at his front door waiting for snot-nosed children to beg him for sweets.
Crumple, crumple.
Rasmus stood in the aisle with the Halloween decorations, a basket full of black candy corn scented candles crooked over his left arm, knowing completely well that next week the aisle would be full to brimming with knick knacks for Thanksgiving, tearing into a mix bag of candy just to get to that one lonesome mini Milky Way bar which he then ate with a sort of reckless nonchalant abandon and then tossed the wrapper on the floor. The giggle caught his attention and he turned to glance at the man in the pig mask. Guh. Horrid choice. If he could have pushed his will on someone he would have done so at that precise moment. Because, let's be honest (apparently it was a day for inward truth telling,) he'd be saving that poor man’s life by preventing him from making such a horrendous choice in Halloween apparel. Not to mention that the fake plastic would cause him to sweat and clog up his pores.
Nasty.
Then he saw a few strands of violently red (bad bad choice but who was he to judge? —he hadn't combed his own hair in a week) hair peeking out from behind the mask and Rasmus found himself in that awkward position of having to make perfunctory social contact because he knew this person. He looked away for a moment and ate another as-yet-unpurchased candy bar — 3 Musketeers.
Too late. He's probably already smelled your coconut scented body wash. Now you have to say something.
Rasmus shoved the open bag of chocolate bars back on the shelf and hid it behind a bag of individually packaged Reeses Cups. Then he shook a heavy strand of black hair from his face and looked over at Red with his I'm totally judging you and everything you do face.