Prisoner Of...Hell?

I finally decided on a Halloween costume for a party this weekend. I'm going as an escaped convict. I decided on the traditional striped pyjamas and hat look, y'know, the old rock-pounders, as opposed to the more contemporary orange coveralls of the modern penitentiary dweller. Hey, I'm just a traditional guy!

Not the most innovative costume I've ever done, but I just didn't have the time or gumption to create something of my own. This year I'm just keeping it simple and easy.

But I'm adding a few twists of my own. I have a pair of handcuffs, so I went out last night to Malabar, a great costume store, because I needed a hand with my costume.

A severed hand!

They had a very nice collection of severed limbs of various types and sizesósevered above the wrist, severed above the elbowóand I found exactly what I wanted. I'm going to place the handcuffs on my right wrist, and then put the severed hand in the other clasp of the handcuffs, so it just dangles there. (I chose my right wrist because it's my drinking hand, for greater effect.) The idea, of course, being that I had been handcuffed to someone else, a guard perhaps, and had to chop off his hand to escape. Just a little added touch. I like the idea of cordially socializing at a party with a severed hand dangling from handcuffs on my wrist.

This is actually the first time I've bought a costume at a store. In years past I've always created something from whatever I had on hand, or dug up at thrift stores. I had checked out a few costume rental places last night, and they were charging about $55 to rent a convict costume. Then tonight I dropped by a store on the Danforth on my way home, and they had pre-packaged convict costumes for sale for the same price. The striped pyjamas, the little hat, all cotton, not bad quality. So I bought one of those. Why rent when you can buy? Plus I can use it again, modified slightly, for future Halloween costumes. Prisoner of Love. Prisoner of Rock N Roll, etc. You get the idea.

Funny moment at the store when I was asking questions of the very helpful sales lady who was showing me the costume. Some of the ones I'd seen for rent came with a plastic ankle ball and chain...

Me: So does it come with the ball and chain?

She: No but you can get that separately. We keep them over in our wedding section.

And she didn't even crack a smile! Then she shuffles off to some other aisle, and returns with the ball and chain! Not a word of a lie!

Hilarious!

(I didn't get the ball and chain, though. I figure someone will step on it and twist their ankle, and then sue me, or something.)

And the fun didn't stop there. After I bought the costume, I stopped into the Shopper's Drug Mart down the street to get some of those Listerine Breath Strips that I just can't seem to live without all of a sudden. I picked up a pack of three for $5.79, and took them to the cash, where the cashier girls were all dressed as little devils. Red jump suits, little red horns and cute little pointy tails at the smalls of their backs.

She rings my purchase in, and with tax the sum comes toóthis is not a word of a lieó$6.66! And the devil-girl just tells me flatly what the total is, in that droney, cashier-y way, not getting the connection at all.

Me (pointing to the display on the cash register): Is that a joke?
She-devil Cashier: No, the price is more for the 3-pack.
Me: No, but, ... uh, 666 is the sign of the devil...
[pause]
She-devil Cashier: Oh, I didn't even get that!

The devil you say.

This is doubly odd, because, as you faithful readers may recall, this marks the second time in less than two weeks that something I've purchased has come to that sign-of-the-beastly total.

Waddya make of that?

If it happens a third time, do I lose my soul to Old Nick, or something?

Bloody Hell!