For once, Mosquito gets tricked

We don't know how things work where you live, but around here kids go trick-or-treating in businesses. Our chamber of commerce compiles a list of participating businesses and the kids spend a couple of hours after school trotting around town and collecting huge hordes of candy. And Tartarus has never been allowed to participate. Spoof presents a series of well reasoned arguments to the Hutt every year just to be shot down. We are allowed to wear costumes (though the Hutt tends to glare at us the whole time) and if we want to purchase our own treats to pass out to any children who happen to venture in the Hutt won't stop us, but we've never been official.

Until this year.

Finally, after years of petitioning, the Hutt actually said yes to Spoof's request. We were on the list. Tartarus purchased treats (pencils and erasers, but at least they were provided for us). It was going to be awesome. Years of begging at last paid off. Spoof was excited to coordinate the whole thing and see the little kids in their costumes.
 

At last! At last! We're so excited!

Halloween arrived and most everyone in Tartarus was in costume. It was pretty cool (even if our co-workers costumes were incredibly lame). Then we heard Mosquito talking to Mr. Ed. "Well, obviously we should be the once to pass out the treats. Look at us. We look amazing."

They didn't. They didn't look amazing. They looked stupid. Mosquito was "a color runner." Basically, she put eye shadow all over her face. And Mr. Ed, who apparently was "before the color run", just looked like a hobo.

And besides, Spoof has literally spent a decade trying to get on the list for downtown trick-or-treat. If anyone was going to pass out treats it was Spoof. 

To make a long story short, we arranged it so Mosquito did NOT get to work in the spot that would put her in a position to greet the trick-or-treaters. When she discovered our scheme, Mosquito did not act like a gracious adult and greet kids with a smile from a different area of the main desk. First, she scowled at us while pacing around acting like she was working. Then she stomped away and pouted for the rest of the afternoon.

Grow up, Mosquito.