So, it's Hallowe'en then. Lets see where we are...... old house in a remote location - check. Bats - check. Scary monster thing creeping out of the darkness................ now, I won't have anyone at the back making clever comments about Mrs Flashbang like that. That women does not creep anywhere; she comes at you in full frontal attack mode but sure, she scares the bejesus out of me. In fact, the whole Crumble Towers Zombie Apocalypse Defence Plan is orientated around them being more scared of Her than she will ever be of a bunch of staggering, wide eyed and incoherent individuals whose left legs go in a completely different direction to the right ones. Lets face it, she's seen that sketch so many times before watching me try to dance.
In any event, the whole Halloween thing is totally owned by the Americans who take it above and beyond anything rational; I suppose that is partly the point. The effort and creativity they go to in scaring the living daylights out of one another is as amusing as it is somewhat worrying. I'm talking about clips like this one.......
When exactly did clowns become scary? They used to be figures of fun and slapstick when I was little. Perhaps, well I'm just putting it out there, but I married one. Yep Laura the Clown, magician and children's entertainer. Was that when the dreams started..... or ended? They certainly gave the boys a shock and a surprise when they were little and at pre prep. Mr Henry, who had been doing the Christmas entertainment at school for the little people for longer than anyone could remember, sadly met an unfortunate and somewhat inconvenient demise just before the party one year. The call went out and the call was answered. Step forward Mum... to the mortification, and please-ground-open-up-and-swallow-me embarrassment of her two little soldiers. I thought she was pretty good actually but that by a country mile, isn't the worst example of out of context dressing up I can remember.
I was invited to my Godson's birthday party one year when his Dad was at the Staff College in Camberley. He would have been about five at the time, the boy not the Dad. Pleased to be asked, I suggested that Dad and I dress in gorilla suits and scare the kids. It sounded like a good idea on the phone but I then promptly forgot about it. When I turned up at said kids birthday party Dad was somewhat put out that I'd let him down while he was revved up, costume rented and ready to go.
What could possibly go wrong? Well, the party was going swimmingly with the kids playing nicely in the garden, right up to the point when an angry gorilla jumped over the fence and started chasing the children. One lad promptly emptied his bowels into his trousers and went into a sort of catatonic shock while a mass hysteria thing enveloped the rest. It took a while for the screaming to subside. Inviting the children to beat the gorilla with any implement to hand helped but for many, the innocence of childhood died that afternoon. Trying to persuade others that the foetal position and thumb sucking is no defence against wild animals and entreaties to play pass the parcel with untold riches as prizes fell on deaf ears. Mothers were called. Now adults, some of the kids are probably still in therapy I shouldn't wonder. All in all it wasn't quite the success that we'd hoped for but on the other hand, we're still talking about it. Richard of course, was banished to the spare room that night. Richard spent a lot of time there one way and another.