(Editor's note: Bad Irving is currently overseas, where the holidays are all screwed up.)

Yup, Halloween '99 is done and gone. So, why the horror story? How can I write to you about a Halloween horror story experience when it's no longer Halloween - let alone post it where you can read it on Halloween? Heck, my 1946 jeep is fast, but not that fast! (Maybe if I re-engined with a V-8?; naw, the classic feel, can't destroy that. Besides, you go above 90 mph and you need to put the windshield up. Oh, the story...) Anyway, now that Halloween has happened, I can write about it.

It was Halloween, a time for terror! True terror begins with a comfortable feeling that is then suddenly and totally destroyed by fear and sometimes loathing. The ultimate terror is when these combine to generate an intense desire to flee for your very life, and yet you are trapped, unable to seek the sanctuary of flight. Such events happened to me just a few weeks ago on Halloween. Halloween, a time for terror!

It began simply enough, a costume party. Yes, the American norm on Halloween, a costume party. A costume party is an event where one can release parts of one's personality that are normally held in check: from the sublime to the outrageous, from the dignified to the utterly undignified, sometimes sensual, sometimes saintly, but all in all a release, and a fun time to share with others. On such a high note began my evening of merriment.

With annoying precision I was on time, meaning, I had about an hour to chat, alone, with the host until the other guests showed up an hour late. This of course was mindless banter, the host was headless, and I didn't mind.

The hour passed, and then the rest of the people arrived. What originality there were in the costumes: vampires, werewolves, a fellow in his Ren Fare garb, and a cowboy. Whoops, my mistake: the cowboy outfit wasn't a costume. This was all fine and good, but not to my interest. My interest lay with the gentler sex and their costumes. Often, Halloween can be a great coming out party for two aspects of the gentler sex, two aspects that I thoroughly enjoy watching bounce and sway across a crowded room or dance floor.

Arriving at the party early enabled me to tank up on libations ahead of the crowd, a process which certainly contributed to my relaxed spirit. The arrival of the other merry makers further heightened the jovial atmosphere. Then at last we were indeed joined by the fairest of the fair. Ah, yes: the ladies were arriving! (What, they're like quail and travel in coveys?) Not only were they arriving, but they were arriving! Can you imagine the joy of seeing breasts enter the room a split second before the rest of the woman? Wow, talk about my hopes soaring. Not just one but many of the women entering the room announced their presence in this fashion! Death had overcome me and it was heaven at last!

TILL TERROR ENTERED THE ROOM! These large magnificent breasts entered the room followed by the huge, overweight, ugly, obnoxious, and foul-smelling beasts that they were an appendage of! Nooooo! It was a Fat Broad Party! I turned to run and discovered the only exit was covered by 400 lbs. of woman in a harem girl outfit. I dashed to the window only to be blocked by 300 lbs. of woman in her pajamas. Fat to the left of me, fat to the right of me, forward and onward I attempted to charge through the fat brigade. I was repulsed, I couldn't get through anywhere. I was hemmed in by walls of human fat. Fat with the stale stench of food and questionable body habits. Fat that led to an opening called a mouth, which was now being used more as a funnel than a body orifice. I was doomed! Giant breasts attached to women that dwarfed the giant breasts. As if that wasn't enough, it was a cleavage day! Acres of cleavage, that were also acting as catch-troughs for all the food missing their mouths. The cleavage was taking on the appearance of butts at this point, with an accumulation of foodstuffs between the "cheeks"; I'd rather not discuss it further.

Revulsion was overwhelming me, I had to get out, but out I couldn't get! The hours rolled on, my senses and physical being were oppressed by the overpowering presence. Then, then, when I had hoped for some small sanctuary in the corner of the room, a large group of them (I think the count came to two) approached me and tried to get me to dance. I said I wouldn't dance if they were toting .45's. Mistaking my point, they responded that they had 50's and stuck their chests at me. I was screaming as, between them, they carried me onto the dance floor. Then all went black. No, I didn't pass out, the two of them together blotted out all the light around me. It was hopeless, I was encased as a fat sandwich and unable to move. I don't even know if there was music, it was blotted out as well. My terror increased as I realized I could no longer breathe. Nay, not terror but salvation. Just before the glory of death overtook me, they announced thanks for the dance and left me in a heap on the floor.

Barely conscious, I now pawed and crawled my away across the floor in hopes of finding the door unblocked. Through countless bare tree trunks - excuse me, legs - I made it to the door. I was at last poised on the threshold. The fresh, sweet air caressed my face. I was reborn! Pulling myself upright I started through the door. There, facing me, was a man dressed as a ferret, about to enter and join the party. My foot crossed the threshold - as two meat hooks, I mean hands, seized my shoulders and pulled me back in with a terrible cry of "This is my dance, sweety".

Seeing terror filling my face, the ferret-man in front of me tried to grab me and pull me to safety. Too late the Samaritan! He tried again, but I cried out, "Save yourself! Incredible race of giants here, race of giants, stay away, stay away, I am finished...flee for your life..."

Epilogue: The most terrifying part is that this story is TRUE! Arrgh!

:-P
- Bad Irving