Once when I was little, I went into one of those horror-house things. I was dressed as a cyborg, so I had little headlight things from these toy night vision goggles (they were just lights). At one point, me and the friends I was with came upon a monster lying on a table that tried to grab us as we passed. I remember thinking that monsters hated light, so I turned those on, making some triumphant statement. The guy made no reaction. I immediately frowned and said something along the lines of "hey, monsters are supposed to hate light! What kind of monster are you?!" and was dragged off by my friends, as I was trying to stay and reason out what was going on with the monster not being bothered by light.
Ha. Ha. Ha.
So you were one of
those kids.
Funny story:
One of my friends was helping do a haunted house for a nearby junior high (it counted as volunteer time.)
So he dressed up as a mildly scary zombie and basically spent the evening lurching around a slightly dark obstacle course scaring 9-11 year old kids.
One kid came in with his mother and was dressed as a hockey player. My friend started zombie-walking towards him.
But this wasn't your average kid. No, this pipsqueak came barreling straight at the zombie, brandishing his plastic hockey stick. My friend got clubbed in the face, and then the kid threw himself at his midsection, nearly knocking him over. Kid's parent had to pretty much peel him off.
Even though it wasn't a genuine hockey stick, it was real hockey gear and everything. And the kid was overweight to begin with. My friend had a killer black eye the next day.
That's what happens when you give kids sugar.