CANDY RIOTS ensued when every household in the upscale Bitterbrook Neighborhood turned out their porch lights Halloween night and refused to answer their doorbells. The Bitterbrook Neighborhood Association issued a statement saying the move was “. . . a protest against the annual influx of children of bad character, who roam the district in disguise and demand candy they do not earn.”

Police report trees “TPed,” trashcans overturned, windows soaped with rude slogans and porch pumpkins smashed across the area. Witnesses relate that children were standing in the street, led by the Peanuts comic strip character Snoopy, chanting: “What do we want? We want that candy! When do we want it? We want that candy now Mother Fuckers!”

The Bitterbrook Association statement holds that: “Candy is not an entitlement!” The statement blames “those same children of bad character” for the damage, calling it “Class Warfare of the worst kind.”

Law enforcement officials are asking anyone with information on the whereabouts of an individual dressed as Snoopy to call the metro police crime watch hotline.

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EARL KING lives alone in an old Airstream hunkered on a wooded acreage south of town. Pranking his property, with toilet paper streaming freely across tree limbs, is a Halloween night tradition for the local kids. His annual regimen of sipping Dickel Sour Mash straight up and randomly firing birdshot into the darkness seems to encourage them. Dorthea King’s annual ritual is bailing dad out of County Jail. Good times.

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THE SPIRIT ANIMAL gig is not what it used to be. Believe me! These days you’re likely conjured by some fakakta accountant from Tulsa head tripping a caribou dream quest scenario. Maybe you help them grok the barren tundra their investment portfolio has become. How about: “Some days the Polar Bear eats your ass?” Deep stuff like that. Information any Inuit nose picker knows from the get go really messes with their id.

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