- Joined
- Oct 24, 2002
- Messages
- 59
Always looking for ways to promote knife collecting, I came up with a brilliant idea for Halloween this year. Instead of contributing to tooth decay and child hyperactivity, I decided to purchase a gross of Swiss Army knives to hand out for trick or treat. Due to cost and blade size considerations I limited the purchase to those small SAKs that have the one spear point blade, scissors, nail file and the usual toothpick/tweezer combo. Primarily designed for key chain carry I believed these little knives would be the perfect treat for the developing young knife enthusiast.
Now I must confess a little warning bell did go off in my head when I first thought about this. I mean I did not confide in my wife prior to Halloween because I have learned that she lacks a spirit of adventure and the willingness to try new things. The many times I have asked for forgiveness instead of permission has given me many opportunities to learn first hand what I might have otherwise missed out on entirely. Carpe Diem! Right? Even so, I maybe should have talked it over with her first.
Just before dark on Halloween, I asked Bunny (thats my wifes name) to head for the nearest burger barn to buy dinner while I staffed the front door to hand out treats. When she asked if I had bought the candy she wanted to give out, I told her I had it covered and not to worry. Her car hadnt cleared the driveway before the first trick-or-treat visitor arrived. I opened the front door to find a pretty little girl dressed up as a witch staring up at me. In her little hand she held a plastic pumpkin bucket, which she held forth with a smile. I plunked a SAK in her bucket and told her to have fun and be careful. She looked in her bucket, retrieved the SAK, placed it between her teeth and bit down. Her little smile evaporated as she said, This isnt candy, Mister, what a gyp, as she dropped the knife on the porch, whirled on her right heel and huffed off.
Unperturbed by this early development, I waited for the next arrival. This time a little boy rang the door bell. Dressed as a pirate he carried a little cardboard sword which he swung about menacingly. I gave him a SAK and said, Here you go, little boy, a bit of the real thing. He took the SAK, opened the blade, and proceeded to test the edge on his thumb by slicing it to the bone. As blood ran down his hand onto the porch he looked me in the eye very calmly and then started to scream like hed severed a finger instead of merely cutting his thumb. I ran frantically around the house until I found a bandage and a soda pop. I gave the kid the pop while I stopped the bleeding and bandaged his hurt digit. I gave him another SAK, one not smeared with his own blood, and set him on his way before any more children showed up.
Next a group of children came to the door. When in the spirit of the evening I asked them to trick for their treat, they mumbled words kids that age have no right knowing. I told them never mind, and gave them each a knife. They looked at the bright red implement, held it aloft and scampered off happily, yelling, This nuts giving away knives, as they went. Soon it seemed every kid in the neighborhood was heading for my door, and I think I saw a bus or two bringing them in from the next town over as well. My SAKs were a big hit!
Before long five guys showed up that I personally think were too old to be trick or treating. I mean they really didnt have costumes per se; they had just pulled their jacket hoods up over their heads and drawn the string tight until all you could see was a nose and one eye. Hey, dude, we hears ya got knives, one of the kids said, his deep voice muffled by the jacket hood. I looked in my box and discovered I only had two SAKs left. I told the guys I was sorry, but I could only give two of them a knife. The two biggest kids put out their hands. I dropped a SAK in each. These two spun off the porch leaving the other three behind. Steam came from their protruding noses, filling the cold night air. I sensed disappointment in that rising steam. What the $#%@ do we get, one of them asked. Besides the fact I had nothing for them, I did not like their tone and told them so before I closed the door. Im certainly glad I moved away from window or I might have been hit by the flying glass. The rock that broke the window lay at my feet. When I picked it up I saw that someone had written one of those words I dont like on the rock. It was misspelled. What is wrong with our schools these days, I remember asking myself.
At that point my wife came home.
She dropped a bag full of burgers on the table and congratulated me for handling all those kids. She had never seen so many, and she asked if I saw those three big kids running away from our house. I just nodded. Then she shook her head as she said, You know when I was at the burger joint I heard one of the kids come in and say some man was handing out knives for Halloween. Now how could anyone be that irresponsible?
It may have been the look on my face, or perhaps the bandage litter and broken glass laying near the door that tipped her off, but she suddenly became very pale, starting shaking and making little chortling noises in her throat, well, they could have been choking noises I guess. When she found her voice she yelled, Kliff, are you freaking nuts? You cant hand out knives for Halloween treats. This reaction is precisely why I didnt ask her about my idea in the first place. What a wet blanket.
Before I could respond I heard a car door slam. The sound came from my driveway. I peeked out the broken window in time to see the little boy with the cut thumb walking toward the front door. He was attached to a very large man who I assume may have been his father, but could have been Hulk Hogan, or left tackle for any NFL team, because like I said he was big, a whole lot bigger than me. I quickly turned off the porch light and locked the front door. Turning to my still fuming wife, I said, All out of knives, er, candy, no more trick or treat. I bounded past her heading for the back door. I have some work to do in the woods out back. Ill eat later. No woman has a right to know the words she used as I escaped, er, I mean left the house. I did offer her a little advice before I disappeared, Tell that big guy the police already have me in custody and maybe hell go away.
The next day the paper told some of the story. Apparently some kids just cant handle the responsibility of knife ownership. The newspaper reported that a wave of vandalism had marred the otherwise festive Halloween evening. Names carved in doors, cut phone lines, slashed tires were among some of the worst acts committed by these little hobgoblins. Also, the local emergency room reported a sharp increase in the treatment of mostly superficial cuts. For myself, I found two of my tires flat the next morning. I think those three hoodlums had something to do with that, but I do find it a little suspicious that my wifes car sits right next to mine and no one touched it. Im sure the petition started by my neighbors to have me committed carries no legal weight whatsoever. Even so, I caution all of you to be careful in your promotion of knife usage, and I do not recommend handing out knives for Halloween. This was an idea that may just be ahead of its time.
Yours in Atomic Edginess
Now I must confess a little warning bell did go off in my head when I first thought about this. I mean I did not confide in my wife prior to Halloween because I have learned that she lacks a spirit of adventure and the willingness to try new things. The many times I have asked for forgiveness instead of permission has given me many opportunities to learn first hand what I might have otherwise missed out on entirely. Carpe Diem! Right? Even so, I maybe should have talked it over with her first.
Just before dark on Halloween, I asked Bunny (thats my wifes name) to head for the nearest burger barn to buy dinner while I staffed the front door to hand out treats. When she asked if I had bought the candy she wanted to give out, I told her I had it covered and not to worry. Her car hadnt cleared the driveway before the first trick-or-treat visitor arrived. I opened the front door to find a pretty little girl dressed up as a witch staring up at me. In her little hand she held a plastic pumpkin bucket, which she held forth with a smile. I plunked a SAK in her bucket and told her to have fun and be careful. She looked in her bucket, retrieved the SAK, placed it between her teeth and bit down. Her little smile evaporated as she said, This isnt candy, Mister, what a gyp, as she dropped the knife on the porch, whirled on her right heel and huffed off.
Unperturbed by this early development, I waited for the next arrival. This time a little boy rang the door bell. Dressed as a pirate he carried a little cardboard sword which he swung about menacingly. I gave him a SAK and said, Here you go, little boy, a bit of the real thing. He took the SAK, opened the blade, and proceeded to test the edge on his thumb by slicing it to the bone. As blood ran down his hand onto the porch he looked me in the eye very calmly and then started to scream like hed severed a finger instead of merely cutting his thumb. I ran frantically around the house until I found a bandage and a soda pop. I gave the kid the pop while I stopped the bleeding and bandaged his hurt digit. I gave him another SAK, one not smeared with his own blood, and set him on his way before any more children showed up.
Next a group of children came to the door. When in the spirit of the evening I asked them to trick for their treat, they mumbled words kids that age have no right knowing. I told them never mind, and gave them each a knife. They looked at the bright red implement, held it aloft and scampered off happily, yelling, This nuts giving away knives, as they went. Soon it seemed every kid in the neighborhood was heading for my door, and I think I saw a bus or two bringing them in from the next town over as well. My SAKs were a big hit!
Before long five guys showed up that I personally think were too old to be trick or treating. I mean they really didnt have costumes per se; they had just pulled their jacket hoods up over their heads and drawn the string tight until all you could see was a nose and one eye. Hey, dude, we hears ya got knives, one of the kids said, his deep voice muffled by the jacket hood. I looked in my box and discovered I only had two SAKs left. I told the guys I was sorry, but I could only give two of them a knife. The two biggest kids put out their hands. I dropped a SAK in each. These two spun off the porch leaving the other three behind. Steam came from their protruding noses, filling the cold night air. I sensed disappointment in that rising steam. What the $#%@ do we get, one of them asked. Besides the fact I had nothing for them, I did not like their tone and told them so before I closed the door. Im certainly glad I moved away from window or I might have been hit by the flying glass. The rock that broke the window lay at my feet. When I picked it up I saw that someone had written one of those words I dont like on the rock. It was misspelled. What is wrong with our schools these days, I remember asking myself.
At that point my wife came home.
She dropped a bag full of burgers on the table and congratulated me for handling all those kids. She had never seen so many, and she asked if I saw those three big kids running away from our house. I just nodded. Then she shook her head as she said, You know when I was at the burger joint I heard one of the kids come in and say some man was handing out knives for Halloween. Now how could anyone be that irresponsible?
It may have been the look on my face, or perhaps the bandage litter and broken glass laying near the door that tipped her off, but she suddenly became very pale, starting shaking and making little chortling noises in her throat, well, they could have been choking noises I guess. When she found her voice she yelled, Kliff, are you freaking nuts? You cant hand out knives for Halloween treats. This reaction is precisely why I didnt ask her about my idea in the first place. What a wet blanket.
Before I could respond I heard a car door slam. The sound came from my driveway. I peeked out the broken window in time to see the little boy with the cut thumb walking toward the front door. He was attached to a very large man who I assume may have been his father, but could have been Hulk Hogan, or left tackle for any NFL team, because like I said he was big, a whole lot bigger than me. I quickly turned off the porch light and locked the front door. Turning to my still fuming wife, I said, All out of knives, er, candy, no more trick or treat. I bounded past her heading for the back door. I have some work to do in the woods out back. Ill eat later. No woman has a right to know the words she used as I escaped, er, I mean left the house. I did offer her a little advice before I disappeared, Tell that big guy the police already have me in custody and maybe hell go away.
The next day the paper told some of the story. Apparently some kids just cant handle the responsibility of knife ownership. The newspaper reported that a wave of vandalism had marred the otherwise festive Halloween evening. Names carved in doors, cut phone lines, slashed tires were among some of the worst acts committed by these little hobgoblins. Also, the local emergency room reported a sharp increase in the treatment of mostly superficial cuts. For myself, I found two of my tires flat the next morning. I think those three hoodlums had something to do with that, but I do find it a little suspicious that my wifes car sits right next to mine and no one touched it. Im sure the petition started by my neighbors to have me committed carries no legal weight whatsoever. Even so, I caution all of you to be careful in your promotion of knife usage, and I do not recommend handing out knives for Halloween. This was an idea that may just be ahead of its time.
Yours in Atomic Edginess
