Devil’s Night!

October 25, 2009

DEVIL’S Night probably had more appeal to me than actually Trick-or-Treating when I was a kid. I’ve always had this component in my personality; call it a flaw, but disorder and chaos has a strange appeal to me. Not necessarily destruction and damage, more so misdirection. I always got a kick when things were not as they initially appeared or when reactions don’t quite fit the circumstance.

Most people play right into this type of behavior. Take the typical response of someone whose house we might corn. They come to the door and yell, usually something to the extent of “Whose there?!” Of course we are going to keep doing it – you answered the door! Of course we’re going to continue! Come out and yell louder and show how pissed you are with every subsequent incident – yeah, we’ll stop.

I was never much into toilet papering trees. But one time we did find some raw material in the bathroom for a prank supreme. We got into my aunt’s tampons and got some red food coloring. If you’ve never played with red food coloring than you wouldn’t know that it seriously looks like blood – and not that bright red blood from a superficial cut, but the dark bluish purple blood indicative of a deep wound. We sogged these things up and they looked nasty to us as kids. I can’t remember exactly what year it was, but I do remember that it was warm, so warm that people had their car windows down and so we hung them on rear view mirrors. The next day the street was full of tampons; napkins, paper towels and what ever else was used to extract them.

I had this huge fur suit with a wolf looking mask and one year, a few blocks from where I lived, I put it on and ran through peoples yards and knocked their garbage cans over, lingering long enough for them to hear the ruckus and investigate. We picked old people to do this to with the expectation that we would actually be able to trick them into believing that some sort of Big Foot was loose in the neighborhood. No one bought it. One old lady stands out in my mind. She screamed – “You Goddamned Retards – get the hell out of my garbage cans.”

THE jumping can was one of my all time favorite pranks. My uncle turned me onto this one. There was a small thicket of woods near my grandparent’s house. Immediately across the street was a telephone pole. Here’s the trick, you get a can and fill I half full with rocks. You put two holes on either side of the can and string it with heavy fishing line, tying one end to the pole and placing the can in the center of the lane. Take the other end and hide in the thicket. When an approaching car is within about a car length, you pull the line and cause the can to mysteriously ‘jump’ into the air. This worked to great affect on this particular stretch of road as people nearly doubled the 25 MPH speed limit and so when the can jumped – they slammed on the breaks and made one hell of a racket which usually resulted in porch lights illuminating the nosey neighbors as they filled the street.

AS I got older, there wasn’t so much a focus on Devils Night as turning the entire month of October into thirty one days of cranks – a Devils Month.

While it would be a correct statement to say that we turfed yards year round, I seem to remember an increase in the incidents in October. I also recall getting busted for spreading bags of leaves back onto a lawn that they were raked off of. And then there was egging. I was never much into phitting cars and houses with eggs, but I remember more than once actually pelting people.

A particular jaunt comes to mind where we did quite a few ‘drive-bys’. Entet Balta. He was a helter skelter of body parts; a sort of organic, womb grown Frankenstein. Physically he was short but stout, “Built like a Barrel” as Dave from Gorillaface used to say. He had these strangely short legs that were nearly twice as short as his torso( usually accentuated by his wearing of tight, red Levi’s and old school aerobic style Reebok black high-tops. He had one pair of these jeans and he wore them nearly every day. He also wore a Polo, hand knit hoodie that contrasted nicely with the pants with its bold, orange stripes. So Balta shows up with this homely girl that he was dating at the time, but for him, she was a real catch. You could tell that she was trying to juice him. Balta’s dad was a doctor and he always broke Balta off. He’d have access to a full size Range Rover or his usual wip, a huge, four door Mercedes sedan. Balta always managed to find the love that he was looking for in all the wrong places, trying to impress chicks with dinners and gifts.

One crisp October evening, he wanted some time alone with his newest squeeze, Lisa. So to ditch the assembled crew, he tossed Jamie the keys to the Benz. We all looked at each other and smiled. “Later Balta!” We tore around Oakland and made our way to the Giant Eagle that used to be there. We loaded up on several dozen eggs. The nice thing about a Benz 300 is the sheer size of the back seats and the huge sunroof. You could seriously fit two to three people in the sunroof at a time. We broodied around and lit people up for over and hour – mostly frat boys and lame ads hipsters. The funniest was when Jamie lit up the kissing couple. He managed to get them right in the lips. We were so close that we got blow back.

WE eventually made our way back to the pad and ended up passing out on the available couches and empty spaces of floor. We were woke up in the morning by a really jacked off Balta.

“Guys – what the hell happened last night? It looks like there is egg all over the inside of the car!”

Jamie chimes in with the exact response that was rolling around my head. “Yeah; dude, we got egged last night – friggin kids!” I Chimed in, “Yeah man, we took the car through the car wash. I thought we got it cleaned up.”

“But how did they get it in the car?! It’s all over my jacket.” Opps, we some how got egg all over Balta’s $500 Harley Davidson biker jacket. I’m thinking in my head, “…that’s what you get for wearing a biker jacket and driving a Benz.”

“Yeah,” Matt chimes in, “we had the sun roof open – I had to take a shower last night, they got me right in the head.”

Balta laughs at the thought and wanders off to the back bedroom to attend to Lisa, who spent the night.

We looked at each other and start to snicker. It was everything we could do to keep it down.


2 Responses to “Devil’s Night!”

  1. Paytosh Says:

    I remember us cruising around in Balta’s Benz and egging!It was about 3:00 am we hit Downtown Pittsburgh, Oakland, and part of East Liberty!! We fucked up dozens of drunks, whores, and frat boys & girls walking home from the bar. The one that really sticks out is whipping a buch of eggs at the donut delivery guy in front of the 7-11 on on Forbes! The eggs totally exploded all over his racks of donuts in the back of his open van! The guy went bananas, screaming, jumping and shaking his fist as me laughed at him and drove away!

  2. Dave DeLuca Says:

    Good times, the one time in washington was the best though, there was eight of us in two cars driveby egging, i think someone tried to throw it over the car with a sky hook move, only to have the vaccuum of the car pull the egg back in! I recall “theneck” screaming like a woman, he thought someone was throwing eggs at us.

    Goddamn it,

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