At the Gates

Sales of garlic have gone through the roof and there seem to be a mob at the castle gates. Clearly the news that Mister Squeaky's going out on Tuesday night "Trick or Tricking" has caught on quickly. I mean he doesn't really mean much harm, well not until the alcohol levels reach the point where he starts on the Girls Aloud karaoke and then you'd better run for a sound-proof shelter. All they have to do to get rid of him is offer him a glass of vegetable based spirits and he'll happily go on his way, otherwise the garden gnome's going to lose its head and the least said about what he'll leave in the fishpond the better (Enter the Dagon might give you a clue) - the ways of Giant Rubber Goth Bats are mysterious indeed...
Could someone explain to me why we have this imported American festival of consumerism to despoil Samhain every year? It really defies any kind of comprehension - most of the year children are told not to speak to strangers on the grounds that they are all kidnappers and paedophiles (or both) yet for one night it's quite alright to pester strangers for sweeties. Would you like a lollipop Little Goth Girl?