Halloween -
1990
Do you remember way back when, when the selection of Halloween costumes was not as wide and varied as they are today? Where these days one could be anything you might set your imagination to, but twenty years ago, many children were reduced to the selections one might find in the local WalMart or KMart shopping centers. Or how about those less than comfortable plastic masks of various characters in movies, cartoons and comic books. Plastic masks that were fit onto your head as a child with a rubber band and felt as if they eye holes were cutting sharply into your skin. Or the costume itself, which amounted to little more than a plastic sack with arms, painted to match the character mask.
Oh if you were lucky, you might be fitted into something a little more original and comfortable, maybe with some garish makeup! If you were not so lucky, you might find yourself...
Little Jack'd:
"But mommy! Please! I-I don't want to wear this!"
Little Jack'd the Ripper cried at five years of age, wearing a Kooky Spooks costume; which amounted to little more than a colorful, plastic bib and an inflatable 'kooky spooks' monster head worn like a hat (but was more like a big beach ball), and of course, colorful makeup that itched and burned. Poor Jack felt that burn of the makeup and reached to scratch but his mother slapped his hand away.
Mommy:
"Don't be ridiculous! You look absolutely precious!"
He reached for his face again, and again his mother's hand slapped his away, and his tears threatened to cause the cheap makeup covering his cherubic face to run. She clucked her tongue and pressed a tissue at his eyes to dry his tears by force rather than by affection.
Mommy:
"I just don't believe you! I go through all this trouble to get you an adorable costume to go Trick or Treating in and this is the thanks I get!"
Little Jack'd:
"I wanted to be a Ninja Turtle!"
Mommy:
"You don't know what you want now come along!"
She grasped his tightly around the wrist and pulled him out into the night...
Halloween -
1995
Little Jack'd:
"But WHY can't I be Rambo like I want to be!?"
Ten year old Jack moaned in misery as he stood in front of the open door of his and his mom's house, dressed as Buzz Lightyear.
Mom:
"Rambo is much too violent! Buzz Lightyear is the 'coolest' costume for boys according to the girl at KMart."
Little Jack'd:
"But I want...!"
Mom:
"You don't know what you want!"
Starting to see a pattern yet? Well, sadly you should, as Jack'd mom ushered him through the door and out to Trick or Treat the night away...
Later....
Little Jack and his mom arrive back home, Jack's pillow case bursting at the seams with sugary goodness. A small compensation to not being able to go dressed up as what he wanted, as opposed to what 'mother' wanted. Mom opened the door and Little Jack's started to run inside...
Mom:
"Hold on there!"
She pulled the pillowcase from his hands as he came to a stop, and he watched in disappointment as she set it on the end table inside of the hall.
Mom:
"You know the rules Jack. I have to inspect the candy before you start eating it. Now get to bed."
The following morning...
The young boy came running from his bedroom, anxious to see if his mom had finished inspecting the candy. But before he reached the kitchen where he could smell breakfast being prepared, he came to a short halt.
In the living room was Jackson, his mom's "special friend." He was dozing on the hideous pine green sofa. Jack'd could see the empty can of beer in his hand, and the tell-tale sign of candy wrappers on the cushions. He didn't have to see the ransacked pillowcase to know what became of his hard earned candy.
Jack'd the Ripper:
"I don't suppose I have to go to any extreme lengths to explain that Halloween was, and is, one of my least favorite holidays. Oh, it wasn't always. I used to love it. Where and when else are you able to live in a world of make believe for one incredible night, and depend on the kindness of strangers for that sweet, sweet bounty of licorice and candy bars and... everything else?"
Jack'd sat in the front seat of his car, his dark and brooding eyes watching as the children ran to and fro in their colorful costumes, under the watchful supervision of the adults. Adults that ensured they were safe with this Covid epidemic happening around them. Laughter filled the evening air, and Jack'd could only imagine that these costumes were by choice, rather than parental coercion.
His frightening stare turned toward the camera.
Jack'd the Ripper:
"Apparently ... never. Like all other nights, it was ruined. And this makes me wonder if Mark Ward was wrong about this night, because it is no longer about the children. At least, it wasn't for me. That ended a long, long time ago. And I have only one person to blame..."
He closed his eyes and shuddered briefly before he slowly opened them again.
Jack'd the Ripper:
"But you know that they say; misery loves company. If that's true, then we are going to be spending a lot of time together, you and I..."
"Alex ... Caleb. Alex Jones ... the world champion ... formerly. Fourteen days. How -- embarrassing for you. To think you ended the historic reign of Griffin Hawkins, and had a laugh at how short of a reign his was ... only for yours to be just the same. At least you did not run away, tell everyone you needed time off. You stayed, a true champion..."
He smiled wide and ... sinister.
Jack'd the Ripper:
"Your funeral."
"But you, Caleb. You strike me as the type who did not find this evening as winsome and fun-filled as so many others. No... no... you were the type of boy who would be taken into those Halloween stores with the displays and costumes and you would cry until your dad would take you back outside while 'mommy' did the shopping. Hm? Am I close? It would seem that fear rules your heart and soul. You feared Fenris. You fear Team Hero. And soon ... you will fear ME!"
"This night begins a revolving process between us. Here we find ourselves on a show celebrating a night of fantasy and sweet ... release..."
The fingers of his large, right hand flexed in and out of a clenched fist. Almost reflexively or instinct.
Jack'd the Ripper:
"I don't like this night, gentlemen. I-I HATE IT!!! But... oh but..."
He smiled and a soft bout of laughter escaped from somewhere within.
Jack'd the Ripper:
"Not to worry -- either of you. I will ... release you. Not just from my misery. Not from just this night..."
His blank, vacant stare turned into the camera.
Jack'd the Ripper:
"From everything..."[/font]
