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and ambled down the hall, that six and a half foot high, yellow-feathered, orange-legged Big Bird really unsettled me! I sashayed over to him and asked him if something was going on that I should know about. "Naw, we thought it would be fun to dress up just for you," said my husband. Knocks on the front door signaled the onslaught of Trick or Treaters. The toddlers were so cute and some of their parents dressed up to accompany them on their loot collection rounds. By eight oclock the stream of tykes had vanished, I presume to devour their booty. Suddenly vehicle doors slamming hinted that a new surge was about to besiege us. This time however, the knocks came from the side door where Louise ushered in two vanloads of revelers. The Richelieu River gals had arrived! Coats were hung up and it quickly became apparent they were identically costumed and were to be referred to as the "Bawdy Beekeepers". Ever one of them was wearing a Shoppers Drug Mart "West Nile Virus" mosquito suit. They were covered from head to toe in sheer brown netting and you couldnt tell one from another through their veiled headdresses. One thing I could tell, however, was that they all were completely nude underneath those suits! They said virtually nothing. Instead they buzzed amongst themselves in a peculiar little language only they pretended to understand. As Louise and Connie herded them all downstairs, I heard a knock at the front door. Upon opening it a crack, a familiar voice said "Trick or Treat!" and into the light stepped Princess St. Regis, the boarder guard! She held out a loot bag and asked if there were any treats for a tired Mohawk princess. I let her in just in time for her to see Big Bird usher the last beekeeper down the stairs. As I offered her a choice of candies, I asked, "How did you?" "Find you?" she completed. She reminded me that I hinted at where we lived when I squealed away from the border crossing. "Besides that, your husband hand delivered an invitation to me last week," she added. I couldnt believe that Doug would invite such a bitch, but after a few seconds I realized my encounter with her was in my diary too. "Actually I have a treat for you as well." She continued and handed me a plastic food bag. Inside I found a small videocassette tape and my screw-drill. "I thought it was the least I could do to make sure these didnt get into the wrong hands and cause untold embarrassment for you." "So whats this all about?" Princess Small Hands St. Regis asked as she looked toward the cellar door. "Its a small party amongst special acquaintances to kick off a fund-raiser," I answered with reasonable accuracy and then asked her if shed like to join in. I hung up her Customs jacket with the others. I took a deep breath and walked downstairs with my U.S. Customs agent, in



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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