"That was the lamest one yet!" Glenn snickered.
"It was pretty bad," Kevin admitted, "but not as bad as Strawberry Shortcake."
"Thanks for reminding me. Yeah, that was even worse."
"Good candy, though."
"Mmm," Glenn assented through a mouthful of Skittles.
The zombie and the pirate approached the little blue house and followed an arrow to the back door.
"Betcha this one sucks," Glenn said as he pressed the doorbell. Suddenly, the door flew open to reveal a short flight of stairs.
"Trick or treat?" Kevin asked hopefully.
A meaty paw reached around the door, and Glenn did a spit-take. A diminutive werewolf emerged from the house and howled for dramatic effect.
"What are you supposed to be, Curious George?" Glenn scoffed.
The werewolf howled again and held out a plastic pumpkin brimming with sweets. Kevin carefully selected a Butterfinger, whereas Glenn grabbed whatever would fit in his sticky gray hand.
"Thanks," Kevin mumbled.
The werewolf barked, and two rivulets of drool fell onto the driveway.
"Sick, how'd you do that?" Glenn demanded.
The werewolf barked again and took a step forward.
"Dude, I can't understand you like that. Just answer the question."
The werewolf snarled and took another step forward.
"Glenn, we got what we came for; we should take off," Kevin advised.
The werewolf threw his head back and howled at the moon, although it was completely covered up by clouds and not full besides.
"How'd you drool all over with that mask on?" Glenn persisted.
The werewolf waved his arms and grunted something.
"Cut the crap and answer me!" Glenn fumed.
Kevin stared with his good eye as the werewolf took a deep breath and trembled. The fur on his head and neck withered away, and his muzzle flattened into the rest of his face.
The werewolf finally broke the silence. "I can't talk very well in wolf form!"
Glenn dropped his candy and screamed like a little girl as he left Kevin behind. Kevin nodded at the werewolf as he tiptoed, then ran, down the driveway and after Glenn.
The werewolf giggled and clapped his paws. The door reopened behind him.
"What's the matter with you?" Mike asked, arms crossed.
"Madness!" the werewolf squealed.
"Seriously, Allan. What if word gets out about you?"
"Oh my God! Civilization as we know it would end! Have some candy."
Mike just stood there, so Allan tried to hump his leg.
"Fine, be that way. I'm going to Fat Jack's until you get this out of your system, or at least until trick-or-treating's over."
Allan yipped defiantly as Mike pushed past him, got into the car, and drove away.
Mike was right, but there weren't many opportunities for a werewolf to show off. Allan waited all year for Hallowe'en, and how much could anyone really tell in the dark? No one hung around anyway, once he acted enough like an animal. He waved at Mike and forced his nose and mouth back out into a muzzle. He'd be on his best behavior, beginning tomorrow.