#huckleberrymidnight

oh. oh my god. who left the light on? we didn't even buy candy this year—oh, hey there. how's it going? you having a good halloween? tell me about your costume. is that designer? no, i'm not stalling. why would i be stalling? no, bird's not actively trying to scrounge together some semblance of a halloween offering. why would you think that? everybody's present and accounted for—

Alright, so here's what we've got. Choose wisely. You can take two, if you want.

Happy Halloween!

You get: A story about my granddad, or as I like to call it, That Time My Granddad Stole a Wolf

So, when the eldest of my mom's family was a small child, my granddad worked as a musician at a bar owned by the mob (different story, he had an eventful life). One night, he hears about this guy who had a wolf and was bringing it around to show off. My granddad steps outside, and lo and behold, there he is - a wolf, who looks absolutely miserable about being in a cage in the bed of a truck, with a guy clearly trying to pick up women. My granddad, a man who was known as Hippie to the regulars, wouldn't stand for that.

Following the man home, he sees him take the wolf into his backyard, where he brings the wolf into a different cage that he looks equally cramped and miserable in. So, when he leaves, my granddad gets close to the cage, when the wolf growls at him. So, he leaves, comes back with some food, and feeds him over the course of several days, so that he'll get used to him. After a while of that, he pops the cage open, and the wolf obediently followed him home.