It was a typical Halloween gathering. The men had a contest as to who could sing Oh Yeah by Yello the most faithfully to the recording, the criteria being 1) voice lower than a grasshopper’s belly, 2) correct speed on the “oh, yeaaaaah,” and 3) use of sound effects. Each one took a turn answering the door, still singing “Oh Yeah.” They confused the heck out of the trick or treaters, who weren’t expecting a vaguely sexual greeting from a man in a Frankenstein mask, a Casper the Friendly Ghost t-shirt, and grey sweats.

The women placed bets on who would come asking for throat lozenges first, since the sounds coming from the living room would do Barry White proud, yet none of the men had ever managed to sing baritone before. The winner would get a spa day. None of them won, because the men doused their sore throats with beer.

Great Grandpa Salvatore sat in the corner with a laptop, which nobody could pry from his hands. The laptop emitted crashing, grunting, and screaming noises. Every once in a while Great Grandpa rumbled, “Take that, bee-yatch.”

When Aunt Sybell arrived, she joined in on the Oh Yeah contest and the men gave up. Nobody would give her props for winning except for nine-year old Jeffrey, who said she had a voice like a devil.

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