Beefier Kid on the Block Intuitively Knows Which Houses Have the King Sized Candy
Everyone’s favorite holiday that's not really a holiday is finally here! While the college kids of Tallahassee complete the finishing touches to their sexy take on wildlife, the suburban kids are getting their shit together to gear up for the most competitive and vicious night of the year. For today's generation of children, trick-or-treating is about one thing: good, free candy. The difference between a good trick-or-treater and a literal fool is those who know how to weed out the Almond Joy houses or, God forbid, the bagged pretzel houses. Because of this, many have turned to the one kid who instinctively knows how to dodge the child-sized bullshit and the ominous “Please Take One” sign. This candy savant, of course, is the beefiest kid on the block.
“I was born with a gift. I am the Jesus of Halloween, or so they say. I take my talent very seriously. To trick-or-treat with me is a massive privilege, and only my chosen Apostles may reap the benefits of my knowledge,” said chubby fourth-grader Maveryk Rodgers as he tested the strength of his pillowcase by throwing in eight bricks and helicopter-swinging that bad boy around. “My mother still tells the story of how, at two years old, I gripped her hands tightly in my enormously pudgy fist and lead her straight past three houses to the only one giving out king-sized Kit Kats. It kept my family’s bellies full for weeks. I am a provider. There’s no secret to it, no teachable way. I simply leave my house wearing my custom-tailored XXL spider-man suit, hold a sticky fat finger to the wind, and let the universe whisper to me the location of the nearest Hershey bar with 12 whole squares.”
“If you’re trick-or-treating and it’s not with Maveryk, what the fuck are you doing? Every Halloween, kids from nearby school districts come to Him to trick or treat because He gets you the good shit. After one hour with Maveryk, I had a split seam in my bag because it was so heavy with full-bodied Snickers,” said chocolate-based disciple Everliegh Jackson as she finished her times tables worksheet before the big expedition. “The rules are simple; you walk behind Him without any debate on houses you think might have Wonka goods and wait for his senses to kick in. Some say this Halloween could be his last due to his withering health. I mean, he is severely obese, but that won’t stop me from learning everything I can from the hefty boy with a divine gift for trick-or-treating.”
So, let this be a reminder to any house husbands rushing to the store to get last-minute bags of skittles: no trick or treaters will place one toe on your driveway with Maveryk leading the packs. The king of king-sized candy is out tonight and he only wants one thing: candy that wasn’t purchased from the Halloween section of Publix because that shit’s small. And as a final word of advice to live by, directly from the mouth of the kid who practically invented husky pants: “the size of the house never indicates the size of the candy.” Amen.
