SEXY PLUMBER: Trick or treat.
YOUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOR: Interesting costume, young man. Have a Now & Later.
SEXY PLUMBER: I’ll take the candy now and your nougat in my mouth later.
YOUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOR: Police, police! Sexual harassment!
SEXY PLUMBER: This isn’t 413 Sunny Lane, is it?
SEXY NURSE: Trick or treat.
YOU: Mm, I’ll definitely be targeting your nether region.
SEXY NURSE: Police! Police!
YOU: I thought you were here for the–
SEXY NURSE’S DAD: She’s 13!
During my angst phase, one Halloween I dressed up like a kid on a “Missing” milk carton, added some fake blood and bruises, called in an Amber Alert and asked my parents to take me trick or treating. They went as my unsuspecting and soon-to-be-incarcerated parents.
My resemblance to this child was uncanny.
Back when people believed in real haunted houses, how did their Halloween novelty counterparts differentiate themselves?
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Our haunted house is sooooooooooo scary—but fake, totally fake. Seriously, that’s why we charge you a few cents to get in. It’s pure entertainment. Just a guy in a sheet with a bottle of tomato paste. |
Your great-great-great-great grandpa thought the old Withers' place was actually haunted.
YOU: Trick or treat.
THEM: A mailman? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HILAAAAARIOUS! What, are you gonna go postal on me? Steal my candy? Shoot up my fam? Then shoot yourself??? But seriously, great costume. Mailmen and mailwomen are choads. It’s like, ‘Nice GED, choad!’
YOU: Can I take two Laffy Taffies?
THEM: Of course not. One each.
That bag is filled with Tootsie Rolls.
Before cartography, it must’ve been impossible for anyone to take a vacation since nobody knew where they lived or how they could leave and return. No wonder life expectancy was so low.
PILOBULUS: Boss, can I take off next week?
VESUVIUS: Why?
PILOBULUS: Good point. See you next week.
This map didn't exist when this land mass did.
If we didn’t have opposable thumbs, at least we could still play skee-ball.
MUGGER: Gimme your money or I blast ya!
MUGGEE: Is that a grenade launcher?
MUGGER: It’s the only weapon I own.
MUGGEE: I question the accuracy of a grenade launcher at less than eight feet. The recoil will make you miss.
MUGGER: You really want to risk death by explosion?
MUGGEE: I kinda do. And I kinda think you shouldn’t have mugged me with that on this unstable bridge.
The only thing harder than getting a concealed weapon permit for a grenade launcher is concealing a grenade launcher.
3 Runners Die Competing in the Detroit Marathon
“DETROIT — A half-marathoner and two other runners died during the Detroit marathon on Sunday, organizers said.”
Is the former considered a “half-marathoner” because of what he/she signed up for or is that an assessment of their marathon performance?
The first sign of pyromania is a feigned inability to blow out the birthday candles on one’s fourth birthday.
[TEDDY LIGHTLY BREATHES ON BIRTHDAY CANDLES]
TEDDY: Are these trick candles?
[TEDDY TRIES TO PUT THEM OUT WITH A NEARBY AEROSOL CAN OF HAIRSPRAY, SETTING GRANDMA MABEL’S CHIFFON ON FIRE]
STEP MOM: I told you he’s Satan’s son!
TEDDY: You’re not my mom!
GRANDMA MABEL: Is something wrong? Why’s my hair so danged hot?
Warning Sign #1