The bell beckoned me to the door. I peeked through the curtain and saw little Toby Maxwell. My wife saw me grimace and her eyes stretched open in disbelief.
“No! Please don’t!”
I looked her in the face; my stare burned through hers.
“That brat soaped up my Mercedes last night… he must pay.”
She opened the door and Toby entered. “Trick or treat!”
“Help yourself, son.” She motioned toward me.
I held the candy in a bowl just out of his parent’s sight.
He walked over and reached in for his treat… I slapped his face.