In Blackest Night (the Halloween Party Story)

*fittedwearer's note: Sorry for the blurry pic, the photographer wasn't sober...but then again, if you're sober at 2 in the morning after a Halloween costume party, you probably didn't have that good a time.

Before the 3 hour train wreck that happened yesterday around 1pm when a high school football squad somehow got ahold of the Cowboys' uniforms and took the field on Sunday to get utterly mauled by the usually weak Jaguars (who decided to be a world-class football team for Halloween) I was actually having a pretty good time with my weekend. I had taken the day off from work to get drunk and watch Cheaters in my Green Lantern suit (a very liberating feeling, even though the supersuit is a bit snug in the superjunk area...) in preparation for the Halloween party I was going to later at a bar a couple blocks from my house. Halloween is an excuse for most chicks to embrace their inner smutbucket in various stages of public undress, which works out just fine for me...every flick of my lighter and refill of my shot glass brought me closer and closer to that evening's masquerade.

About half a bottle of whiskey and a pipe screen later, it was party time. Still in disguise, which was a green hoodie, a pair of jeans, and a hat with GL's logo on it (it was intended to have a Clark Kent level of obviousness to it. "Hey Clark, anybody ever tell you you look just like Superman? Yeah, same impossibly athletic build for a newspaper reporter, same chin like the back of a bus, same hair and eye color, you always disappear when he comes around...man, if it wasn't for the fact that you wear glasses and don't style your hair like Elvis, I would think you were the same guy...eh, whatever...I'm ordering lunch for the office, want anything?") I took a seat and scanned my fellow partiers. There was a devil, an angel, a French maid, a fairy of some kind, a schoolgirl, the required Nicki Minaj impersonator...for the most part, basically your standard girl costumes. I didn't even bother taking any pics of my own, mostly because you know what they looked like already and partially because I was too busy drinking...uh, saving the world.

There was also a dirty old pervert. He wasn't in costume though, I'm pretty sure that was just who he was...or maybe his outfit was just that convincing. Probably the first one. I'm not sure what he was doing there, seeing as the last time he dressed up for Halloween they probably still gave out apples and shit, but there he sat at the bar, drinking Taylor's Port, sweating pure lust, and throwing his hook out at every girl who walked by (and ignored him).

"Ay girl...ay Nicki...I like your wig, come home with me..."

"Psst...Tinkerbell...wanna see my magic wand? Heh heh heh."

"Yo sailor girl...I know some seamen that would be all over you..."

"Hey tea hostess...your titties lookin mighty fine in that shirt.." *rubs crotch*

I sat and watched his futile efforts to snare a costumed chick, and suddenly a heroic indignance rose up within me...well, until I remembered I was the Green Lantern and not Captain Save-a-Hoe. Anyway, I wanted to be drunk in a hero suit, because I can be drunk as a civilian 364 days a year...so I had to find a phone booth somewhere to change in. However, since everybody has a cell phone now, they don't make those anymore...the bathroom would have to do. I went in, nodding at the DJ as I strolled past. 5 minutes later, I emerged as a member of the only police force I actually like: the Green Lantern Corps. (They're good cops...and also made up. Take that how you want.) The DJ did a triple take at me before giving the thumbs up. I was now DJ approved...super.

I returned to the party to the stares and confused looks of folk in the bar. At first I thought it was because they had never seen a straight 6'4" black dude in a green and black power leotard, and actually...that is probably why. However, I found out that it was also because less people than I thought know who GL is. I went to the bartender to get myself a drink...she greeted me with "I don't know who you are, but I know you don't think I'm letting you get away dressed like that without taking a picture." As a person who enjoys taking pictures of random ridiculousness, I know how the game goes. I obliged her with a hero pose, got my drink, and went on my way. (Still dont know what she did with that pic lol)

By the time I got back to my seat, Pervert was gone. (Shame...I wanted to vanquish him in my jumpsuit of justice...you can only "vanquish" someone in a powerful manner, which is why it's one of my favorite words.) Oh well...I'd just have to talk to Tea Hostess instead...or try to. You see, also invited to the party was some kind of hype man, whose job was apparently to destroy all hopes of conversation within the party and did so extraordinarily well because he had a microphone and loved the sound of his own voice.

"YO! Iseealltheladieslookinextrafinetonight! Getyoursexyselvesonthedancefloorandshakethosefatasses! Yeeeeah...speakingofsexy, checkoutmybartenderoverhere...ohshesothickandlusciousIwannameltmyselfoverher. Shesogorgeous, lookatthemhips, themthighs, thatprettyassface...*inhales*damndamndamn."

After the bartender was nonplussed with his commentary, he refocused his attention on Angel.

"Hey! Heyangel! Iseeyouovertheredancing...yousexybutyouaintshitunlessyoucandropit! Dropitlow! Dropitlikeit'shotformeonetime. OWWW!"

Angel, after 5 minutes of harassment, finally did one halfhearted dip in the hopes of shutting Hype Man the fuck up. It was to no avail...he continued to talk and talk and talk until nobody could even hear the music. I decided he was the Green Lantern's archenemy...AJ's too. Meanwhile, our hero had been busily imbibing and decided to have a smoke...he went out into the cold night air, hoping he wouldn't advertise himself poorly with his tight suit. (Come on guys...it was cold as hell...I don't wanna spell it out with the ladies here, but...you know...lol...turned out fine though, caught a couple peekers...oh, and while I'm in these parentheses, I'll go ahead and stop narrating in the second person too...)

Sailor Girl and her mother, Nurse, were already out there with Crackhead, another costume that that particular individual wears every day. He tried to court Sailor Girl in a sick, raspy voice. "Oh, look at you in your creative costume...lookin all gorgeous...I swear I wanna *unintelligible*" After he was satisfied that he had sufficiently creeped her out, he hopped on his bike that he had tied (yes, tied) to a parking meter and rode off into the night smoking a cigarette...probably to try his luck at another party.

I finished up and went back inside where I was called a variety of the wrong names ("Superman" was popular, I got a few "Hulk", and "Batman" and "Green Batman" were a close third...don't you people read comic books, damn! At least nobody called me the Green Condom or anything...) before sitting back in my seat and trying again to start up with Tea Hostess. We chatted for a while with plenty of "What?" and "Huh?" sprinkled in because of Hype Man's incessant mouth noise.

Then we heard him get closer...and closer...and eventually I felt somebody tread on my shoe...it was Hype Man! He took one look at me and started up: "Heyit'smymanSuperHulk! (Who?!) Myfaultforsteppingonyourkicks,dawg...wecool? Don'tbeatmeup...Idon'tthinkIwouldlikeyouwhen youangry. Hahaha!" I was willing to let the shoe thing slide, but his voice had me ready to try and zap the shit out of him with my power ring. The only thing that stopped me was the fact that it wouldn't work. (Later, he ended up dropping his mic and breaking it anyway...a small victory for justice.)

After a few more drinks, and a few more solo performances from the Nicki Minaj (she was annoying as all hell...the real one sands my balls just a tiny bit, so she was more like a jackhammer.) it was time to announce the winner of the costume contest, the prize for which was a bottle of vodka. (Kinda spoils the ending, huh?) I wanted to win for obvious reasons, but since I don't have lady lumps to show off, I thought I had a snowball's chance in hell of winning since that's pretty much the criteria for how good a costume is.

However, what I hadn't counted on was the cat effect. You see, all the judges, Tea Hostess, Sailor Girl, and Chick who Forgot Her Outfit, were female...they weren't impressed by the flesh, and deemed most of the costumes uninspiring, unoriginal, and just plain bad. As a result, guess who won...that's right, the guy holding the bottle in the picture! I probably won just for having the balls to appear in public that way, (literally or figuratively would depend on your perspective) but damn if I wouldn't take it...I even walked home in my suit since I was being rewarded for wearing it. I had won, and until about 1:00 Sunday, life was good...even better when you consider that I couldn't have taken that picture myself after the party...thanks, Tea Hostess!

(Answer your question, person who asked if I was dressing up for Halloween?)