A few seconds of ticking from inside a jack-o-lantern: that's all the warning we got before Halloween exploded. It was a terrible scene; ghosts splattered against windowpanes or spread across streets like ectoplasmic butter on burnt toast; witches jammed hat-first through trees, their striped stockings all higgeldy-piggeldy; splintery candy shrapnel peppered walls, doors, and the occasional cursing parent; and everywhere, everywhere, the sobbing of children deprived of sugar.
But it could have been worse.
In a couple of months, we might have aerial bombardment to worry about. How many presents do you think Santa stores in his sleigh at once?
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