The cookiest Halloween Ever

Now that I'm a house owner, my Halloweens have been spent handing out candy to fat little entitled turd like children to prevent my house from being TP'd or egged. It wasn't always like that. I wasn't always old and responsible. In my earlier days, I used to like to have fun.

One halloween many years ago, my friend D decided to throw a house party at his place. We were all still in college, so it wasn't really a house, more like a smelly low rent two bedroom pee stained student apartment. Most of that pee wasn't ours. Well, it wasn't mine, I can't vouch for anyone else.

Having a tiny apartment to hold the party in, he decided to keep it small, about 30 people. I went early to help prepare. As I was filling the bathtub with ice to accomodate enough alcohol to stock the shelves at a small liquor store, D approached me.

"Mikey" he said with a grin on his face, "DM is coming. I'm going to need your help".

DM was the guy from the apartment above D's, who also went to the same school we did. This guy was an absolute nut. Well, more so in a perverted way. He liked sex and was not above doing odd things to go about it. What's more, he really didn't care what SEX the person was, or what they looked like, or smelled like, or how old they were. As long as his dong was filling SOME sort of orifice, he was happy. He would make strange remarks such as "Hey! There's four guys and four girls in the room! Lets have an orgy!".

Don't get me wrong, it's not like that would be a bad thing. Personally, I don't like the ratio of that mix. If it's going to be eight people it has to be me and seven other girls for that to happen. Savvy?

D asked me if I would be bouncer for the night. There was going to be a lot of drinking, and if we were to see DM cajoling a girl back up to his apartment, I was to break his skinny ass like a twig. I happily complied, and promised to stay somewhat sober.

Just for clarification, college students think somewhat sober is only 4 drinks an hour. At least, that's what it was like in my day.

Later that night the party started and DM was one of the first dozen to arrive. He proudly announced that he had baked cookies, and started handing them around. They were really big, and there was only eight of them, so I had three quarters of one. It was very tasty with a strange sort of aftertaste.

It wasn't until after we had eaten them that we found out that they weren't any ordinary cookies. They were cooked with weed.

This wasn't a big deal to any of us, as we were in college so that automatically makes you a pot head. At least it did in my day. What we didn't know is how MUCH weed he actually baked the cookies in.

The first guy to go down was Big A. We called him big because he was about 4 foot 11. We all had an excellent sense of humour back then. It probably came from the automatic drinking and weed smoking that college brought. In my day. Big A came into the master bedroom, announced that he wasn't feeling well, teetered a bit and slowly fell to his knees and draped himself over the toilet in the tiny en suite bathroom. All you could see was a pair of little feet sticking out of the door. He stayed there, in that position, for the next twenty hours.

This surprised me. You see, Big A had every single one of his finger nails trimmed except his one pinkie nail, which he grew out to several inches in length. He claimed that it was for religious purposes, but none of us could figure out exactly what religion he was. And we all knew better anyways. I had thought a man of his obvious illicit drug use experience could hold his weed cookie for sure! I was wrong.

About an hour after that, Heavy, and his girlfriend, Heavier, decided to drive to the store to get more munchies. This did not surprise us at all. Unfortunately, Heavy had a very hefty portion of the cookie, and it hit him shortly after they left the store.

We got the phone call from Heavier a half hour after they left. It seemed that Heavy could no longer drive the car, because he no longer thought he had hands or feet. The person who took the call told us that he could hear Heavy crying in the background "What happened to my hands! They're gone! They're nubs! They're nubs!"

At this point, D and I both started laughing hysterically. Normally, we could function while having a laugh. And after having a laugh. The laugh would normally last only a minute or two as well. We were both chemically induced to the point where normal functioning was not possible. Both D and I would be out of commission for approximately half an hour.

Normally, this would not be a problem. It's a party after all, and joviality is the name of the game. Unfortunately for heavier, there were only three people at that party that could drive his manual transmission car. One of them was hallucinating his appendages were missing and the other two were trying not too pee themselves from laughing so hard. By the way, did you know when you laughed for a half hour straight you'll wake up really, really sore the next day?

Eventually, Heavier managed to get the car back home. I was told the next day that she stalled it something like thirty times on the four block trip back to the apartment. Apparently, she's exceedingly bad at driving.

Heavier came in the door helping heavy walk, as he found it hard to walk normally with nubs in place of his feet. It was funny watching him try to close the door after himself. His hands were limp and he didn't use his fingers to grasp the doorknob. He used his limp hands and wrists, exactly as if they were nubs. Heavy was actually crying at the lose of his hands and feet. He gimped over to the kitchen and leaned against the wall at an odd angle.

Heavy stayed leaning against the kitchen wall for a very long time until someone finally asked him what he was doing. "I can't help it" he said with a tone of despair in his voice "the floor is sloped northwest!"

"Well then, lean northeast!" came a smart ass reply from somewhere in the room. A flash of understanding came across Heavys face, and he immediately straightened up. "Thanks!" he said, and went over to the Dorito bowl and planted his face in it. I guess he still had nubs and couldn't pick them up.

One by one people who had eaten the cookie began to drop like flies. About seven hours after I had my cookie, I lay on the ground and succumbed to the massive dose of marijuana. I was dead to the world, and practically paralyzed. I could barely move, and you could scream in my ear and it would sound like you were a mile away. I managed to gather one last burst of strength, and crawled my way over to the couch. As my head hit the pillow, I was out, dead to the world, and I remembered nothing from that point forward.

It's really too bad I didn't remember anything. Apparently, Heavy crashed on the floor beside the couch, and Heavier was beside him. Later on the next day, Heavier told me it was a very interesting night. When Heavy started to snore, I would ask him to shut up. He would comply for about 15 minutes, and then start to snore again. This happened the entire night, and I didn't remember any of it.

I think the moral of this story is don't accept any food from a sexual deviant at a college party. It did make for an interesting time. Luckily, this deviant didn't pull any fast ones, which was good since all I could manage was a weak "shut up" anyways.

Fond memories of halloween past! I shall always remember this one every year as I hand out candy to fat little turds.