On October 6th Thunderball and I went to my BFF’s 6th birthday party in full regalia. Full regalia being Thunderball as a Sith Lord (Darth Marv) and my beta test of Death of the Endless. I would say it was a rousing success, if it weren’t for the worlds shittiest makeup, which ran and smeared and spread everywhere. So by the time we arrived at the party we were fairly upset and more than a tad runny, but everyone seemed rather impressed nonetheless.
The ride over was fabulous. This small New England town full of people walking around on the first clear day in weeks, with children or pets, were completely oblivious to the two fully made up folks in the spaceship nudging their way through slow traffic. I do not know if it is saying something about the obliviousness of my neighbors or just that they’re used to seeing that sort of thing drive through town. Once we hit highway, however, it suddenly became an issue of not causing accidents, as suddenly everybody noticed us.
When we got there, the BFF greeted us with a COMPLETE identification verification (I think we may have been swabbed for DNA), because of course our faces were covered, so we could be imposters. (Who knows? Right now, I don’t even know. How the frell did I get here anyway?) The party itself was alright, though compared to the previous year it was a bust. BFF was so bummed he wouldn’t don his costume. But the gorilla showed, and he got lots of candy apples and loot, so he was happy there. About a third of the guests – mostly musical metalheads in nature – failed to show, and they were supposed to jam with Thomas for his birthday. Hence his disappointment. It should probably be explained that Thomas’ father was a legendary musician who passed away last year, just before Thomas’ 5th birthday. Sufficed to say a lot of promises were made, and a lot of people who came and jammed last year failed to show this year (even after RSVPing and assuring everyone that they would). It is more than likely that over time these supposed friends will fail to even RSVP or bother to make excuses to come to anything in the future. It’s sad, really. Promises are so easily broken and forgotten.
The night before, Thunderball and I made the mad candy confections for the little bugger: poisoned candy apples and skull lollies. In addition, we made caramels, caramel apples (with so much added naughtiness), and basil lollies made from our own deadly basil plants. (We also used the basil to candy some fresh strawberries.) Thunderball and I in a kitchen are a force to be reckoned with, a well oiled gourmet machine. When it comes to confections we generally impress the masses with our ridonculousness. Our Christmas cookies, for example, have been known to cause riots. Our lemon-buttercream cupcakes are obscene. So you can imagine when it came time to make the BFF some snackies, we pulled out all of the stops: Our apples were not only delicious, they were infused with darkness from the Old Ones. Our lollies were so wicked they appeared to be one color, yet THEY MADE YOUR TONGUE AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT COLOR when you licked them. That’s right. We bewitched that shit. Snow White’s wicked stepmama has nothing on us.
Though we have been known to whip up everything from handmade pasta to French toast popcorn (or rice cakes), we find candy is especially fun to make as it is so very lethal. If you are looking at our glorious evil confections and getting grandiose ideas that you too can be a sugar alchemist, please take note: candy is not to be trifled with. You don’t fuck with burnt sugar. That shit is NAPALM, yo.
About halfway through the party Thunderball and I wiped the smeared, blobby goop off of our faces and tromped around in our gear. I transformed myself into the Generalissimo (the hat I had already been wearing to cover the bald) donning glasses and all, and at one point TB sported a full cowl Batman mask, and it was quite effective. We ate all of our gooey nom noms (despite Thomas’ Nana arguing that he can’t eat the candy due to his allergies, even as Thomas was EATING THE CANDY), and disappeared back into the night to watch Venture Bros. reruns. But not before stopping for gas at a crowded BJ’s first (me still as the Generalissimo, Thunderball still in full Sith garb, but now sporting Devil’s horns). It was pointed out that I must be one fucked up badass if the devil is my chauffer.
In conclusion, I think my Death of the Endless costume Beta tested well. (Am finding it interesting how my pallor these days – as a vampire – is such that I don’t need any white goth base paint.) I will definitely get better makeup and reprise the character on All Hallow’s Eve. Also, I think as a society we should do mundane things in fancy dress more often. Like every day. I think it would certainly make this place a lot less inane.
In a brief side note, I hope everyone out there is planning on celebrating All Hallow’s Read this year. Candy is overplayed, unless it’s some I’ve made. Thank you.