By Annie Liang
Gargoyle senior editor
Posted Friday, Oct. 27, 2006, The OG, features

Halloween arrives on a dark, moonless night that promises to be full of adventure, candy, and many mishaps. Disguised as a ghost in your deluxe Dallas & Co. costume, you step out of your house and almost run into a pair of zombies (their real identities: your neighbor's 8-year-old twins). With your candy bag hanging at your side and your car keys in your pocket, you are ready to make a decision: If you choose to travel alone, go to A; if you choose to trick-or-treat with a group of friends, go to B; if you choose to attend a Halloween party hosted by the friend of a friend, go to C.

A: Scoffing at the so-called “dangers” of Halloween, you choose to embark on this journey alone. Setting down a familiar road in your neighborhood, you are making good progress with the trick-or-treating until you run into the old run-down shack at the end of the street. If you choose to ring the doorbell, go to D; if you choose to turn away, go to E.

B: You drive over to a friend's house and meet up with a group of your classmates. You chill for a while, then head out for some hardcore trick-or-treating. Ten minutes or so into the trick-or-treating, another friend arrives with rotten eggs and toilet paper, hoping to get the group to help him TP a house. If you agree, go to F; if you decline, go to G.

C: Trick-or-treating? No way. That's way below you. Instead, you head over to what you believe will be a smashin', out-of-this-world party. Too bad it's full of vampires … real ones. THE END.

D: A wizened hand reaches out of the darkness. You scream and turn to run, but it is too late. THE END.

E: Deciding to head elsewhere, you turn to leave. Mid-rotation, you spot a huge bowl of candies set by the door. A bright and cheery sign says, “Happy Halloween! Please only take one.” Perhaps you have misjudged this place after all. If you choose to take a candy, go to H; if you do not, go to I.

F: You tell your friend you like his idea and proceed to rally up the rest of the group for some record-breaking TP-ing. You select a house at random and set to work. You're up in a tree winding toilet paper around the tallest branches when a car pulls up into the driveway. Your friends scat and you're left to face the owner of the house alone. Too late, you realize it's your math teacher. THE END.

G: A group of your friends choose to go on the TP adventure, but you don't follow. Bored with trick-or-treating, you go with the more responsible half of the group to a haunted house exhibit. While touring the house, you are attacked by fake ghosts and dodge aside. In doing so, you lose the rest of your group. The lights dim further and a cackle sounds in the background. A slimy hand lays itself upon your shoulder. If you turn around as calmly as possible, go to J; if your first impulse is to attack whatever's behind you, go to K; if you scream bloody murder and go running, go to L.

H: The candy is poisoned. You die a slow and painful death. THE END.

I: Suspicious as ever, you pass on the candy and head elsewhere. The rest of the night passes uneventfully and you head home at a decent hour having found a lot of candy, but no excitement. THE END.

J: Taking a deep breath, you turn around slowly. Your best friend stands before you with a fake zombie hand in his grasp, grinning like a goul. “I wasn't scared,” you swear. After the necessary laughs and insults, the two of you head through the rest of the haunted house together. Who says you're too old to enjoy Halloween? THE END.

K: The moment you feel that slimy, goopy hand on your shoulder, you go into ninja mode. A black-belt master, you deliver an expert kick at whatever creature might be behind you. Your foot connects with something hard and you bounce back, triumphant. That is, until you see your best friend bleeding before you, one hand still clutching a fake zombie hand, and the other now clutching a broken jaw. Oops. You get to spend the rest of the night in the hospital. THE END.

L: The dimmed lights, the all-too-real cackling, and the mysterious hand are too much for you. Jumping up, you scream and sprint off. What was really behind you? Perhaps you'll never know. All you can hope as you pull back into your driveway is that no one saw you. You'd never live down that kind of humiliation. THE END.