All Hallows' Eve

Tis to be the Eve of Halloween! The Witches are already brewing their cider in black cast iron vats, made from the cavity fillers of the dead. Oh so many rotten teeth of those who once enjoyed many a Halloween treat. So go on, drink, drink! The cider is good, uh? Such is made from the finest red apples, grown in Salem and fertilized from the ashes of our wrongly burnt Conventionists. Phew you say, the reminiscent of burning Withes never existed. Bite you tongue and eat your words, for here are some court documents on the very trials of my Witch ancestors. Here, drink some cider to wash the blood from your very own bitten tongue. Oh yes, and it is the worms that give each cup that tingly tang! So til Midnight, I bid you all a Happy Halloween! Bytheway, the bats have now abstained for days, as they hang anxiously about waiting to feast upon the bare necks of the living, on this eerie night.