Halloween had never been Kent's favorite holiday. Hell, it wasn't even a holiday as far as he was concerned. It was just another day that other people liked to make a big fucking deal of. It was a day of stupid. For three hundred and sixty four days a year kids were told that candy, chocolate bars, and chips weren't good for them. They were also told not to talk to strangers and not to take candy from strangers. Yet on Halloween, they were not only encouraged to do so, they were sent right up to those strangers' houses to knock on the door.
Kent hated that part of Halloween more than the rest. On the evening of October 31, he was forced to hide out in his place without any lights on anywhere in the house. If he had so much as the bathroom light on, the little monsters would ring his bell and knock on his door and call out rude names when it became clear that he wasn't handing out any candy, even though he was home.
You couldn't escape it anywhere. Bars and restaurants would decorate for it. Stores sold all sorts of themed items from socks to elaborate lawn decorations. Overpriced and over packaged candy abounded. And then there were the costumes, costume parties, costume contests at work... it was endless. And all for a day that wasn't really a holiday.
So, Halloween had never been Kent's favorite holiday, not since the days when he was little and his mom couldn't afford to buy him a costume, so she'd put a hole in the middle of a sheet and sent him out as a ghost. He'd been made fun of by the other kids, the people handing out candy had sniffed at him and given him less candy than the kids who'd "made a real effort." That was the year he'd been knocked about by the other, cooler, ghosts who'd been out trolling for candy. They said he gave ghosts a bad name.
Now, though, now Kent fairly much hated it. He'd been the only one in the entire office who'd not dressed up for the annual Harding Costume Day last year, and if that hadn't been bad enough, they'd awarded him the worst costume award. The rotten apple mounted on a desk stake had returned to his desk for an entire week, no matter how many times he tried to throw it away, and by the end of the week, his desk was surrounded by fruit flies that he'd endured for weeks before they'd finally disappeared.
If there had been any chance he'd start liking Halloween that had officially ended it. Halloween was a good for nothing, rotten, steaming pile of shit holiday and he was skipping the entire day this year. ENDEXCERPT