“Todd, no, you can’t wear that again,” she says as he sits on the couch sipping a Hot Toddy (light on the water, heavy on the bourbon).
Puzzled, he looks at her and asks, “Why? This is the best costume in the history of costumes.”
She walks into the kitchen and mixes the spiced wine she’s preparing for her friends who haven’t arrived yet. Sperry, dressed as a bumblebee, keeps barking and rolling on his back in an attempt to get out of the costume that’s relentlessly velcroed to his body.
“It’s not even a costume, babe!”
“How is this not a costume?” he fires back. “I’m dressed as someone that’s not myself and I look awesome.”
A Nordstrom bag sits on the floor next to the couch. In it sits a pair of heather grey sweatpants, a ribbed turtleneck sweater, and a pair of Timblerland boots. Though it sits sixteen inches wide and twelve inches tall, it’s an elephant in the room that has no intention of leaving before the night is over.
“I didn’t spend $220 on all of this so you could dress up in a Charleston Chiefs jersey for the fifth consecutive year,” she says under her breath while adjusting her powder-pink Hotline Bling shirt.
“First of all, it’s CharlesTOWN,” Todd responds before becoming wide-eyed knowing that he shouldn’t have corrected her. “…and secondly, Slapshot is the greatest movie ever made.”
The next twenty minutes are filled with no other noise outside of the hockey announcers on the TV and Sperry’s dwindling barks while everything in the kitchen gets prepared. Even though the plan for Halloween is to spend an hour having drinks at the apartment before heading out, there’s a full smorgasbord of mulled wine, Jell-O shots with gummy worms coming out of them, and pumpkin-spiced beers for everyone’s fiances, husbands, and boyfriends.
With no one due to arrive for another forty-five minutes, she nicely asks Todd if they can put on Hocus Pocus one last time before they stop playing it on television until next October. It’s intermission, so Todd concedes knowing that it’s either Hocus Pocus for the fourth time this month or him dressing as Drake in the Hotline Bling costume.
After cracking open his first beer of the night and heading back over to the couch, Todd confronts the question one last time.
“Okay, this is the last time I’ll ask — will you please put on the costume I bought for you?”
He looks to the ceiling and slowly closes his eyes. “Baby, every guy at this couples party is going to be dressed as Drake this year.”
“Oh, and you think no one is going to be dressed as a hockey man? Yeah, real original, Todd.”
Someone knocks at the door and she springs up off the couch to answer it as Sperry skids across the slick wood floor in excitement for who has just arrived. As she opens it, it’s Caroline and they exchange a barrage of “Looooove your costume!”-style statements.
“Where’s Todd?” Caroline asks as she ladles wine into her plastic cup.
“Ugh, I don’t know, probably in the bathroom or something,” she responds rolling her eyes before explaining the Hotline Bling costume situation. Caroline, who is dressed like Kim Kardashian spraying a bottle of champagne into a glass that’s resting on a fake butt, explains how rude it is that Todd is being such a poor sport on Halloween.
The bathroom door opens and Todd — dressed in sweatpants, the ribbed turtleneck sweater, and the Timberlands — emerges, walks into the kitchen, opens the refrigerator door, and grabs another pumpkin-spiced beer. As he walks over to the couch, everyone hears a loud crack of the beer before he sits down on the couch, flips it from ABC Family to NBC Sports, and turns to the kitchen where the girls are standing with smiles on their faces.
“I’m Drake now. You happy?” .
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