I told Karen that I slept with her husband.

Okay, so I never thought I'd actually have my own story to tell on here.

I'm still not completely convinced it wasn't a fever dream.

If not for a neighbour dropping by to ask me what the heck happened last night,

I probably would have dismissed it as a fever dream.

But enough preface, let's get into it.

So I was hoping, thanks to COVID, this

wouldn't be a problem. But the kids in my neighborhood keep coming to my door on Halloween

for candy. Every year I tell them that, no, I'm not giving it out and to go somewhere else.

I've also gone so far as to put out signs telling them to shove off and leave me alone

every October.

But the little jerks just seem to take it as a challenge.

They'll repeatedly ring the doorbell until I come out or they get bored.

Once they went five whole minutes before they went away.

Or they'll keep coming back to my place after I tell them no, hoping I'll change my mind, which I never do.

This year, one particularly

persistent little brat from the next cul-de-sac over made it her mission to wear me down for candy

every year. She rang the doorbell, and I told her nicely, or as nicely as you can tell someone

who repeatedly ignores the big red sign saying that my house is not for trick or treating,

that I don't have any candy. She looks at me with what she probably thought were adorable puppy dog eyes,

and asks me if I would mind checking. I tell her there is absolutely no candy in my house,

nor will there ever be. That was a lie, but she didn't know that. Then the little monster gets it into

...