I like Halloween. It wasn't really an event in the UK when I was growing up, but as kids we had heard about the “Trick or Treat” action that all the lucky US kids had.

Fast forward a number of years to October 1997, and as a recently relocated Brit I was just about to experience my first US Halloween. Kids in the hallways of the offices; pumpkins everywhere; lots of fun. And last year I got to experience my first trick or treating with Julian. We had a blast.

This year started out around 6pm, with Julian's pals MacKenzie, Gabby and associated parents. We went off around the neighbourhood even though it was raining - much candy was collected. After a short while we headed back home and then had lots of little visitors to the house. Creatively dressed and very polite, the kids were fun. Most of the kids took just a little candy each - I said they could take extra, after which they might take just one more.

Nice kids.

About half an hour after the visitations had tailed off the older kids started to arrive. No costumes, open backpacks and attempting to take fistfuls of sweets.

“What are you dressed as?”, my wife asked innocently.

“I'm the lollipop sucking pimp”.

Very funny. Now piss off.

I think I only vocalized the first part.

Anyhow, after a couple of those visits, I just turned the lights off, moved the pumpkins inside and the visits stopped.

A few hours later and everyone except myself is in bed when I hear what sounds like someone taking potshots at the house, starting at one end, and working it's way down across the windows.

Some git is paint-balling the house.

I get a quick look at the truck they're shooting from before it disappears and call the cops. They stop by after a while and say “it's Halloween”, and they expect it'll continue around the neighbourhood. They'll keep an eye out.

It looks like they were aiming at a particular ghost decoration on the deck, but the hits weren't in a very tight pattern. I guess they were just very poor shots.

Ho hum.