candy devotion

Halloween, freshman year of college, was about the seventh time I trick-or-treated in my life. When it was finally acceptable and cool to dress up as a big ol' slut, my dormmates and I did the opposite. We went as dead people. Haley was a cheerleader with blood smeared all over her cheeks, Soren wore a wet suit and grayish face paint, and I was the chick from Pulp Fiction, but dead. Ten of us went out together with various "gashes" and "pallid skin" ailments. There was not a single midriff or boob in sight.

How do college students compete with small children while retaining their dignity, you ask? At each doorstep, we performed a song and dance. Literally. We fully choreographed a "dead" version to the Top Gun hit, "You've Lost that Loving Feeling." It went like this:

We've lost that living feeling
Whoa-oh, that living feeling
We've lost that living feeling
Now we're dead, dead, dead, whoa-oh-oh
(badum, badum, badum)
I'm down on my knees
Won't you give us some candy Pleeeeeeease...

The song ended here with us all on bended knee holding our bags out in front of us like true beggars. We made a killing.