I wanted to post this earlier today, but was unable to. What would Halloween be like without knowing how Geraldina celebrates this holiday. Before we start the story, I have a couple of pics to help clear up certain details.
A Savannah is a domesticated cat that is bred with an African serval. The result is a rare, expensive house cat. Here is a pic:
The latest trend for people who don't know what to do with their money or their poodles is the extreme grooming. Here are some pics:
And now, Geraldina and Trick-or-Treaters:
Trick or Treat, Prunes to Eat
The small quiet Midwest town exploded with screams and laughter as children ran door to door. Dressed in costumes, they rang doors screaming, “Trick or treat.”
It was an unusually warm night for the event and the children didn’t want to miss a single home – except for one. And that one was Geraldina Pottwatt’s abode. Everyone avoided this house.
Geraldina felt it in the best interest to give out individual prunes wrapped in saran wrap. She had long fought for better digestion for the tummies of the young ones, and she was all for saving pennies if she could.
There was another reason no one dared to go near her house. Her over-sized tabby cat, Snookums-Doodles, was a bully who would run after children and their treat bags. Not even high school pranksters could win against his tactics.
Two new families had moved into the neighborhood just last week. They came from the big city to live in a quiet safe town for their children. Together, they had 5 little ones, one extremely groomed standard sized poodle and one Savannah cat. The families stayed much to themselves, rather than hobnob with the locals. The dads still worked in the city, the children rode a limousine to a private school.
This night their children were allowed to trick or treat with their parents and their pets. One girl was dressed as a robot, her twin sister was a princess whose jewels shone in the moonlight, one of the boys was GI Joe with authentic looking weapons, and the two youngest were dressed as the tortoise and the hare. The parents paraded their young and their pets up and down the streets, when they came to Gerri’s house.
Gerri was upstairs as usual, typing away on her 60’s Royal Quiet Deluxe typewriter, listing the virtues of the prune for her next Sunday School Class. She planned to take the leftovers from Halloween so the students could sample them. Over the years she had gotten fewer and fewer trick or treaters. Last year, no one showed up. As silly as it seemed, she was wondering if it could be the prunes.
“Now who could be ringing my doorbell?” Gerri stood up to look out the window.
“Trick or treat or smell our feet!”
“Now why would I want to smell your feet? Seems to me you have no manners about you. I’m coming down to give you a yummy treat as long as you don’t talk about your feet anymore.”
The parents looked at each other and shook their heads. The children giggled.
Gerri headed down, picked up the bowl of prunes, and opened the door.
“Ahhhhhhhh!” Screamed the group. The mothers and children hid behind the fathers.
“Don’t be screamin’. What is the matter with you? That ain’t part of tonight. Where are you from, another country?”
All the two fathers could do was to point behind Gerri. She turned and laughed, slapping her knees with her hands. Her precious Snookums-Doodles sat staring at the visitors. He wore a hand knit sweater with a jack-o-lantern on it, a plastic black eye mask, and a small black cape.
Turning back to her guests, she said “My, you scare easy. Why that’s just one o’ them plastic eye masks like Zorro wears.” Whispering she said “It’s his favorite. Won’t behave unless I put it on him.”
Everyone relaxed. One of the dads said, “What’s the fur costume supposed to be?”
Geraldina looked at the man and said, “Why, that’s how he always looks.”
“Sorry.” Said the other father. “We didn’t know. Is your grandson one of those mutant children?”
“Now, are ya new to our country? Screaming and not recognizing a common cat? This here is the USA, and we all have pets. This is my lovey dovey cat, Snookums-Doodles.”
Snookums gave a loud belch and ate the rest of the cat cookie he was holding.
“Why, look, dear.” Said one of the mothers. “These locals think that’s a pet.”
The parents all chuckled.
“What’s so funny about a cat?” Asked Gerri.
“This is a cat.” Said the other mother as she paraded her Savannah, whose leash was designed with diamonds. “I don’t know what that thing is, but it’s not a cat.”
“Oh my, oh my, my, my. Why, we don’t allow those jungle creatures here. There’s laws against them things. Just honest to goodness dogs and cats are allowed. My, my, my.”
The woman looked insulted. “This is a rare domesticated Savannah cat. We paid close to $6,000 for him.”
“Mm, mm, mm.” Said Gerri. “Looks like you got took. Do they always look that mad? Might be it needs a prune or two. Kinda thin. Ya do feed it, don’t you?”
“Of course we feed it. We buy a very expensive cat food of the highest quality.”
“Doesn’t seem it likes what you feed it. Are ya sure it’s a cat? It’s on a leash.”
“Please do not refer to her as an ‘it’. And I assure you she’s a cat.”
Gerri looked at Snookums-Doodles and pointed. “Lookey, Snookums, they think that’s a cat.”
But Snookums had already noticed her and was making a strange purring sound and pawing the air towards her. With a determined look, he prowled slowly towards the Savannah, his eyes fixed on her. She growled menacingly back.
“Oh no you don’t, you common mutt.” The woman tugged her cat behind her legs just as Snookums went to bite the feline in the neck as part of a cat mating ritual. Unfortunately, he bit the woman’s calf instead. In retaliation, the Savannah began jumping, scratching, and biting at Snookums. The woman’s leg was got the brunt of it. “Ow. Stop them. Ow. Someone get this beast away from my cat. Ow.”
“Snookums,” called Gerri, “come get your cookie.”
Snookums had been growling, spitting, and scratching at the feline. At the word cookie, he forgot all about her and ran into the house. Gerri quickly stepped out and shut the door.
“The thought of those two mating…” said the woman.
“Oh I know, hon, and no offense, but I can’t have my Snookums mating with something that ugly. Mm, mm, mm.” Throwing her hands into the air she said, “Lard, why did you make some ugly creatures?”
“Why, I’ll have you know, these cats are rare.”
“No one wants ‘em ‘cause they’re so ugly, I bet. I feel for you, hon, getting’ taken like that.”
“For the last time…”
“Not now, darling. Tonight is for the children.” Said one of the men, in a hurry to get away from her house.
“Of course, my love, I’m sorry. Go ahead. Get your treats.”
The children walked to Gerri and held out their treat bags. “Trick or treat, smell our feet!” They sang out again.
“Now, just what is it about your feet? My, my, my, I think this child has some sort of a fetish about feet. Mm, mm. That’s not normal.”
“It’s just part of trick or treating.” Said one Dad.
“Talkin’ about feet all the time just ain’t right.” Gerri insisted. “Feet should be talked about in private.”
“What are you supposed to be?” Asked the girl in the princess costume. “Are you Little Red Riding Hood’s gramma?”
“Why, I’m not wearing a costume! This is my evening gown.”
“Made out of flannel?!” Both women exclaimed at the same time, then looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“But what about your hat?” Asked the little princess.
“Why, this here is a snood.”
“Very good, Cindy. She does look like that grandma, and that cat could be the wolf.”
Both women held their hands over their mouths and turned away as they shook with silent laughter. The children looked at Gerri curiously.
“My, my, but you ain’t a very bright girl. Take after your daddy, I see.” She said, pulling the snood part way off. “It holds my curlers.” She fixed the cap back on her head.
“How awful.” Said the little princess. “Mamma always says you should dress pretty for your man.”
“Well, my man’s in Heaven, bless my Wally’s soul, so he don’t care how I look now.”
“But Mamma says you should…”
“Take the treats. Take the treats. Let’s go.” Encouraged one of the dads. They looked at each other with brows raised. The women continued to face the street and shake with silent laughter.
The children held up their treat bags and Gerri promptly dropped one individually wrapped prune in the little princess’ bag.
“Now just a minute.” Said one dad angrily. “We’ve wasted all this time here, my wife has been scratched and bitten by your common cat, and you’re only going to give them one piece of candy each?”
“Candy? Why, I would never give young ‘uns sweets. What good is that? Ya aren’t too bright about raising kids, now are you?” At that, Gerri threw her hands in the air and said, “Hallelujah, Lard. Thank you for my smarts.”
While she was yelling her praises, the dad looked in the bag and took out the prune. The two men stared at it curiously. Then he said, “What is this sticky gooey thing? I demand to know.”
“Don’t be using that attitude with me, Mister. Just ‘cause I’m standing here in my nightgown doesn’t mean I can’t give you what for. And for your information, that is the healthiest of all foods, and one everybody should consume more of.” Gerri looked up and threw her hands in the air again. “Thank you, Lard, for prunes.”
“Prunes?!” Said the other father. The dad acted as though it was poison and quickly threw it out onto the ground. The women were shaking harder and snorting.
“I don’t believe you threw that on my yard. Wasting good food like that. Well, you won’t get anything here other than prunes. I refuse to support bad health. You young ‘un come by some time on your way home from school. I’ll let you eat all the prunes you want. Throwin’ good food on the ground. What a waste of the Lard’s bounty. Why I have half a mind…”
“Don’t strain it figuring life out.” Said one dad.
Gerri wasn’t listening. She was staring at the poodle. “So the rich have nothing better than to spend their money on a pony? Probably this mouthy girl wanted a pony for her birthday.”
“What are you talking about?” Asked the dad.
“Why, that pony, right there that your wife’s a holdin.”
His wife leaned over and whispered in his ear, biting her lip to stop from laughing.
“This is a pure bred, standard size poodle. He has won several contests for extreme make-overs.” The man stood proudly. “We pay good money for him to look like this.”
“Mm, mm, mm. You rich folk from the big city think you’re so hoity toity, buying a pony, a leopard, a robot, a rabbit and some trained turtle plus some kind of midget security person for this spoiled little girl.”
The one father slapped his forehead. The other father just shook his head.
The child in the robot outfit spoke, “I’m not a real robot. I’m her twin sister.”
Gerri grabbed at her heart. “Oh my, and it can talk.”
The twin sisters started crying, which made the younger children cry too.
“My, my, the noises from that rabbit and turtle.” Gerri patted at her hear. “Mm, mm, mm. They bring their mini farm to trick or treat.”
“For the last time, lady, they are all children.”
“Children?” Gerri leaned forward and put on her pince-nez, studying the GI Joe boy. “Oh my, teaching someone so young to be violent. Carrying guns and knives. Maybe he’s just angry because he doesn’t get enough prunes. Can he cut himself with that knife?”
“It’s pretend. Jack, let’s get out of here. I think we’re seeing the Wicked Witch of the Midwest.”
“Where?” Screamed Gerri, looking up and down the road and backing up to her house. As she opened the door, Snookums came tearing out after the Savannah, who started biting, scratching and doing high jumps, causing the dog to start barking and biting at Snookums, who in turn was taking swipes at the dog while trying to bite the cat’s neck.
“Mm, mm, mm, Snookums. Good for you. You chase them off our property. Crazy rich people.” Gerri shouted as the women grabbed the younger children and they all ran off down the street making a lot of noise and catching the attention of home owners and trick-or-treaters who stopped moving to watch the hullabaloo.
Gerri threw her arms into the air and shouted “Thank you, Lard, that you gave me social grace so I don’t act like these hoodlums.” She went inside, leaving the door ajar for Snookums.
A few homes down, Shirley and her son Buddy watched the families running with Snookums after them.
As they passed by, Buddy yelled, “Welcome to our neck of the woods.”
He and his mother, along with other neighbors laughed and went back in their homes to await more trick-or-treaters.
LHR, my friends.