TR: These are the good years for me and Barb. We're happy about the colder weather because we're not tank-top people, and Barb has that tattoo of a wolf on her shoulder which is from her college years and, yes, there was alcohol involved and it doesn't look like a wolf so much as some flesh-eating fungus. Our friends keep giving us jars of crabapple jelly, which we hate, and so do poor people ---- the food shelf isn't accepting crabapple jelly anymore ---- so we found a company that will dispose of them safely. And the other day I found Barb getting out Halloween decorations
SS: I was thinking of scarecrows again. What do you think?
TR: Barb, they're silly. They don't scare anybody.
SS: Well, I hope you're not going to dress up as a zombie and wander around the yard moaning the way you did last year ---there are children still seeing grief counsellors a year later.
TR: How about I walk around the yard moaning and wearing the chains of credit card debt?
SS: Look----- the trick-or-treaters who come around on Halloween are little kids, up until about 7:30, and then there's a big wave of sullen teenagers who aren't wearing any costumes. They're the ones we want to scare.
TR: We'll dress up as hipsters. We'll be cool. Inscrutable.
SS: Oh, that is totally sick, Jim.
TR: I'll put my arm around boys and say, "Hey bro, wassup."
SS: I love it. And I'll put my arm around girls and say, "Hey, BFF, let's chill."
TR: They'll run away screaming and they won't even stop to open their bags and get the little packs of ketchup we're giving out this year.
SS: All the more for us, then.
RD (SINGS):
These are the good times for signor and signorina
Sing and dance to the concertina
Life is flowing like ketchup on your weena
GK: Ketchup, for the good times.
RD: (Sings) Ketchup, ketchup, ketchup.