Hallowe'en!

You can say whatever you want about Hallowe'en, but I'm all for it. It's one of the rare occasions where I get to don my Sir Gwaið falconer's raiment and show the trick-or-treaters what it really means to assume the responsibility of representing another time or land!

I don't keep a true falcon on Hallowe'en, but rather a simulacrum which will not attack children (in their majestic and far-sweeping wisdom, true falcons will attack children). As they ring the doorbell, I greet the tots first by poking my head out, peering at each one of them, and scarily asking "WHOO-OO-OOOO would like to know the truth about falcons!"

Invariably, at least one among them will raise a trepidatious hand. I then yell GOOD! and slam the door shut. At this point I quickly slip on my falcon sock-puppet, open the door just a nidge, and stick his head out there. I then "make" him say, "A falcon is a noble bird! We are servants, yet we are not to be mocked! Do you mock me, children?!"

The children nearly never mock him, and are sent on their merry way with a package of oyster crackers or ketchup. Only once did I have an incident, when an asshole father kicked the door shut on my wrist after his little group of fairy-princess totlings started to cry. If I ever see him again, I'm going to cut his throat open with a Garden Weasel.