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full uniform, following me. As I stepped down the stairs, I saw a sea of candles! They were everywhere, flickering away in glasses and jars. I stepped cautiously onto the basement floor into the semi-darkness of the room. I saw constant movement but it took a good thirty seconds until my eyes adjusted to the dim light. I walked carefully around, searching for familiar faces but mostly I saw veiled heads. Suddenly a flashlight lit up under the Connies chin and she barked out, "Belly up to the Barmaid ladies, weve got enough grog to set us all on our asses!" Connie handed me a small flashlight then looped what I thought was a lei over my head. But upon flashlight examination it appeared to be a small Dollerama water bottle on a string, filled with hard cider. In less than five minutes, everyone had cider and flashlights were spontaneously lighting up like mating fireflies all over the room. I heard the side doorbell ring and zipped back upstairs. Lo and behold, four men stood there in full pirate regalia yelling out, "Trick or Treat!" The first one in, a middle-aged, tall and refined looking introduced himself as Hook with a swish of his huge captains hat. The second, wearing a Harley Davidson bandana on his head to accent his gray moustache and beard, called himself John, even though he looked a little like Smee. Randy, a fresh-faced younger cabin boy just grinned as he lustfully eyed me sheer cat costume up and down. T.K., wearing a long-coat, eye patch and tight button-fly striped breeches, immediately perked up when he heard the lilt of feminine voices downstairs. Assuming the four were Richelieu River Pirates we could have a little fun at the expense of, I welcomed them to join the party. As I ushered the guys downstairs, Enya sang "Caribbean Blue" through the speakers to the ghostly-lit feminine faces. The foursome clustered back-to-back in true Musketeer fashion under the spinning disco light. Firefly sparkles of all colors teased them with fleeting glimpses of breasts, bellies, bums and pussies peeking through sheer brown netting, feathers and lace. When Louise gave Duffer a loathsome look from across the room, John said to me: "My friends and I have this guys club where every week we dress up like pirates and sailors. We drink more than we should and swordfight as we sail up and down the Richelieu on a pontoon boat. When our blood pressure gets all up, we go home to pretend rape and pillage our women. For the last six weeks, the women dont want anything to do with us after our meetings. Tonight I saw my old lady, Sophie get all dressed up in that sexy brown suit. So I told the guys we should find out where our women have been going for the last month and a half. We followed them all the way over here from Phillipsburg to see what the hells going on here and frankly were all



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really confused. They tell us theyre over playing Euchre and exercising but now we know theyre full of shit!" "Oh lighten up, you guys have your club evening and we have ours!" I explained. Duffer returned, "OK, but how come none of them want screw after they get home anymore?" "I guess theyre all worn out from the drive, the card playing, the conversation and the exercising." then motioned Connie to give them something to drink, fast! Connie, with her big soft breasts spilled out off her blouse and just kind of flopped there on her serving tray, reached around his neck and hooked him up with a booze bottle like the women. By the time Connie had the third pirate fixed up, refilled and content, they just stood there over against the furnace room wall, watched the women rage on, squealing, dancing and hugging "Cause girls just wanna have fun"! I noticed St. Regis seemed a little confused by what she saw. Suddenly substantial tape hiss entered my ears. Immediately after, I heard Chris Isaaks signature guitar lick reverberate from the loud speakers. As always, I choked up and began to tear when "Wicked Games" echoed through the room. The mirrored disco ball in the center of the ceiling lit up and started to revolve, swirling pinpoints of light throughout the crowd. Out of the darkness sauntered Big Bird, who seemed to have grown a dangly ten inch long dildo-penis between his legs. He put one hand around my back, took my right hand in his left and led me into a slow, sultry dance. As Chris Isaak wailed out the chorus, Louise yelled out "Snowball!" then cut in to dance with me. Doug spun around and pulled Minette from the crowd. Thirty seconds later, after the next chorus, Louise repeated, "Snowball!" She too took a tall beekeeper as a partner. Doug took Althea, Jeanine grabbed Michelle and I pulled out Connie. As I whirled about I noticed Rija had removed her lab coat and was showing off a naughty-nurse outfit with white bustier, white nylons, a tiny tutu skirt with crinoline and what appeared to be a speculum dangling from a golden chain in her cleavage. After the next Snowball I noticed Karlas hospital gown ties were loosened off at the back and all she wore underneath was fishnet stockings with her slippers and a black thong. After the last Snowball, everyone was dancing with someone except for St. Regis who nervously fingered her riot stick. I went up to her brazenly, spread open my arms to her and smiled as I said, "When in Rome..." To my surprise, she accepted my invitation to dance as the song ended. I was ready to back off but Lisa Brokop began to croon "Land of a Thousand Dances" and urged me to step up to her once more. As we danced at a safe distance, she leaned over and whispered, "You know that if this crew of yours ever attempt to cross the border, I could