“Trick or treating will be allowed within the corporate limits until sundown,” stated the notice an all store fronts, as well as the courthouse and public library.

It upset the children, and truthfully, I was mule-lipped a little bit myself. After all you can’t properly impersonate a “haint” or anything else that could be honestly considered “spooky” in daylight unless you are a lawyer or congressman.

In past seasons no incidents beyond rough practical jokes had been effected, but that year the Puritans were out in force and empowered to dictate policy on itinerant pranksters prone to time-honored traditional tricks. Pranks like M-8O firecrackers in trash cans, lawn mowers on the roofs of public buildings, toilet rolls in the principal’s yard. That is entertainment of a harmless sort.

One year a particularly strict and ornery Baptist preacher who had outraged members of his congregation, got his comeupance by strategic use of his own church bell.

The bell was mounted on a plantation- style open tower. It could be summoned to action by standing directly beneath it and yanking the rope. Someone, (possibly one of his disgruntled deacons) propped the bell on its crank in an upside position. Then they removed the clapper and filled the bell itself with muddy water, hog slops and, (it was in”sin”uated) byproducts of the human body. It doesn’t take much imagination to visualize the gravitational results of that yank or the resultant sermon that came later.

Well, when the aforementioned documents were posted all over Marianna, Ark., the “Redneck Affirmative Action Committee” was consulted and subsequently devised a “plan.”

The plan was based on the fact that the Veterans of Foreign Wars had a surplus 105 mm cannon that faced the town square. Of course the breech had been welded shut so a live artillery shell was out of the question. The weapon had been neutralized, or so it was thought, but you should never underestimate the ingenuitive resources of the Redneck Affirmative Action Committee.

They requisitioned supplies and drafted volunteers from the Tricker Treater Society, who felt honored to donate their services. The mission was to “roll the square at precisely one minute past sundown.”

The T.T.S., using a “borrowed” portable drill from  undisclosed sources (the CIA denies culpability to this day), drilled a touch hole to accommodate a fuse into the breach. This was accompanied with two quart jars of Pyrodex, which is basically black powder used  by hunters in the muzzle loading season.

This concoction was followed by 16 editions of the Arkansas Democrat Newspaper, which made for the wadding, and 24 rolls of Charmin toilet paper, for decoration purposes. (Don’t ask me how I knew those details).

It was an earth shaking event. A  resounding success! I couldn’t have planned it better myself. There were a few items scattered around the site that puzzled authorities. One was was a used mop whose handle had been inserted into a 12 foot length of PVC pipe, the distance being equivalent to the length of cannon. It probably had served as a ramrod.

Several housewives  were clandestinely  investigated to see if anyone bought a new mop that week, but they were all exonerated. Fortunately my wretched ex was overlooked. It is a matter of record in our family archives that she hasn’t mopped a floor in 21 years. There might be a reason for that.

The city council rescinded the proclamation the next Halloween, but they hired me to pour that Howitzer barrel full of concrete and paint it.
Ricky Harpole