Posted on Thursday, 31 October 2002

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!

"What the-?" Mr. Darcy went to Pemberley's front door, opened it wide and stared. There stood the Gardiners, Elizabeth Bennet's aunt and uncle, dressed as Raggedy Ann and Andy.

"Trick or treat!" they shouted.

"Huh?"

"Get with it, man!" Mr. Gardiner admonished. "We're in the 21st century now. Everyone goes door-to-door begging candy and treats on All Hallow's Eve. I'll admit it was more widespread in the last century, but surely the world hasn't gotten so bad that people can't have a little harmless fun? We are going to get Darcy's treats X-rayed, aren't we?" he joked to his wife.

"Dear!" Mrs. Gardiner flipped back her pile of red-yarn hair and frowned, at odds with the brightly drawn smile on her face.

"But..."

"Oh, come now," Mr. Gardiner told Mr. Darcy. "What do you have? Lollipops? Caramel apples? My favorite!"

"I - Mrs. Reynolds!" Mr. Darcy cried in relief as his housekeeper entered the foyer with a large bowl. "Do you have any candy for - what did you call yourselves?"

"Trick-or-Treaters!" the Gardiners said in unison.

"Whatever. Well?" he demanded of his housekeeper. "And how did I not ever know this happened?" he whispered to her.

"Because you are always busy appearing in fan fiction, sir," Mrs. Reynolds whispered back. "Busy men such as yourself, sir, don't have time to pass out candy."

"Well, I can certainly learn!"

Mrs. Reynolds rolled her eyes to the heavens, but she didn't say a word, she just handed him the bowl of treats.

The Gardiners held out what looked like pillowcases in anticipation, and he gave them each a piece of wrapped bubble gum, gingerly dropping them into the sacks as if they were live snakes. This he did only after some mad pantomiming from Mrs. Reynolds.

"That's it?" Mrs. Gardiner asked.

"What do you mean, that's it?" roared Mr. Darcy. "I gave you each a treat!"

Mrs. Reynolds put her hand on his arm and whispered, "I think you should give everyone at least two pieces of candy, sir. No need to look clutch-fisted, you being lord of the manor and all. Sir."

"I suppose not," was Mr. Darcy's ungracious reply. "You may each have one more piece." This time, he held the bowl out and let them select their own candy.

"That's more like it!" Mr. Gardiner said. "Ready dear?" he asked his wife. "We'll have to hurry if we're to attend the costume party. Give Lizzy our love," they called as they ran back to their carriage.

"Party?" Mr. Darcy's ears perked up. He was so busy wondering who was giving a party, he failed to notice that the Gardiners were participating in a modern activity in a Regency-era mode of transportation.

"I wouldn't know, sir," Mrs. Reynolds replied. "But I think we are about to get our next callers."

"I'll take care of this, Mrs. Reynolds. Will you please find my wife?"

"I believe she is upstairs, sir. I will go at once. Mind you don't chintz on the candy, sir."

"Mind you don't chintz on the candy, sir," he mocked when his beloved housekeeper was out of earshot. "Don't chintz on the candy!"

"Knock, knock!" called Charlotte Collins. "Trick or treat!" She was dressed as a nun.

"I say, Charlotte," Mr. Collins whined from the passenger side of their Chevy Nova, "I can't get this robe out..."

"Excuse me," Charlotte said to Mr. Darcy. With a heavy sigh, she stalked back to the car and yanked her husband's heavy brown robe out of the door. It ripped soundly, but she ignored him and stalked back to the front doors of Pemberley. "Where were we?"

"I was about to give you two pieces of candy," Mr. Darcy told her, blinking at her abruptness.

"Two?" Mr. Collins cried. "Why your aunt, my esteemed patroness..."

"Yeah, yeah, go tell it to the abbott," Mr. Darcy replied testily. "This is my house and I say you get two pieces of candy. However," he magnanimously amended, "you may make your own choices."

Where the devil was his wife?

"You are most generous, Mr. Darcy, most generous, indeed!" groveled Collins.

"I'll choose your two pieces, Billy," Charlotte told him. "You always pick the nasty stuff, like licorice."

"Yes, dear," the oily little monk said meekly. "Can I drive to the party?"

"No! The last time you drove, we ended up in a ditch, and I missed out on several stories! I'll drive."

Mr. Darcy waved the pair off down the drive with a puzzled wave. Who was having a party, and why was he not invited?

"Who the devil are you supposed to be?" he growled a moment later when a chunky platinum blonde in a white halter-top dress and a studious man in glasses turned up.

"Well, obviously, we are Arthur Miller and Marilyn Monroe," said his father-in-law. "If you had less of a starring role in all these stories, you would get out more, read more papers, look more things up on the Internet..."

"Ooooh, Mr. Darcy, I love your costume! A Regency man! Just like in the old days," cooed Mrs. Bennet.

"I beg your pardon? I am not wearing a costume," he replied with as much dignity as he could muster. He was slightly nauseated at the sight of so much of his mother-in-law's saggy cleavage.

"Oh, come now, Mr. Darcy. Surely you don't wear those every day?" she wanted to know.

"I - don't you two have to get to the party?" he asked.

"Oh, yes! Come Mrs. Bennet. Collect your candy, we must be off." They climbed into a stately Bentley and eased off along the drive.

Where the devil was his wife? Mrs. Reynolds should have been back by now, as well.

A wild screeching sound was heard at the end of the drive, and then a bright red Cadillac convertible sporting three gray mice came tearing up to the house. Out jumped the scantily-clad mice, two giggling madly, and the one in the back hanging her head. They wore what looked like gray corsets, black fish-net stockings, gray high-heeled shoes, tails, whiskers and ears. And dark Ray-Bans.

"Come on, Mary!" Kitty cried. "Mr. Darcy has candy!"

"I don't want any candy." Mary would not approach her brother-in-law. "I am ashamed to be seen in such a get-up! So immodest, sister!"

"Oh, don't be an old poop!" said Maria Lucas. "How can we be the Three Blind Mice with only Kitty and I? If you are going to sulk, go do it in the car. I don't even know why she got out in the first place, if all she was going to do was complain," she added in a low voice. "Now, where is that candy?"

"Here, here!" Kitty cried, digging her hands in the bowl.

"Hey! Two pieces each! Watch it! Hey!"

Kitty had grabbed two hands full of candy, and she was lobbing them at Maria, who was catching them and throwing them at a sack in Mary's lap. Most of them missed their mark, but she didn't seem to care.

"Done!" Kitty yelled, jumped back into the car, and fired it up while Maria showed her considerable assets as she fell face first into the front seat. "See you at the party!"

Where the devil was his wife? And why didn't she tell him about a party? Kitty obviously thought he was invited...

A large Land Rover pulled up the drive and out jumped his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Mr. Darcy started to laugh.

"Of all the costumes this evening, yours is most appropriate!"

The colonel chuckled. "I make a good jester, do I not?" He capered about on the front steps to prove his point, and Darcy pelted candy at him before remembering that everyone was allowed only two pieces. His cousin scooped it all up and tucked it into his pockets before Mr. Darcy could ask him to return most of it.

"I just came by to remind you not to be late," the jester said, getting back into his vehicle and driving off into the night.

Another carriage arrived next, and Mr. Darcy groaned as he watched his cousin, Anne, help her mother alight.

"Is that you, Darcy?" Lady Catherine demanded. "Why are you not in costume?"

"I- You are in looks tonight, Aunt." She was dressed as the Grim Reaper.

"I look hideous! Anne, at least, had the sense to refuse to wear a costume. Although I can't approve of the mask."

"I'm not wearing a mask, Mother," Anne said stiffly.

"I understand there is a party tonight," Mr. Darcy said before his aunt could make a reply.

"Of course there is, Darcy! Don't be idiotic. Come Anne. We must go."

With some relief, Mr. Darcy watched them depart, and then sat down on the front steps. He was getting tired of passing out treats. Who did this all night, anyway? And where the devil was his wife?

Then he saw a large silverly object, rounded at the bottom and tapered at the top, coming around the side of the house. What appeared to be a tall brown bottle of some sort walked alongside the silverly bulb, and the two had buckets in their hands.

"Trick or treat" the two beings shouted and held out their buckets. Mr. Darcy obliged with two pieces of candy each.

"Don't you know who we are?" asked the silverly blob.

"I haven't the faintest idea."

"We're the Hursts, Darcy!" Mr. Hurst shouted. "Blasted beer bottle costume! I wanted to be a silver hip flask, but Louisa said no."

"I said one silverly object was enough," she said angrily. "I'm a kiss," she told Mr. Darcy.

"You want me to what?" he cried, much taken aback at her bold manner.

"I said I'm a kiss. You know, one of those little chocolate things wrapped in silver paper."

Mr. Darcy hadn't a clue, and Mrs. Hurst was far being being a little anything.

"Well, off to the party," they yelled from beneath their concealing costumes. "See you there!"

"I suppose," Mr. Darcy said faintly.

HONK! HONK!

"What the devil?"

"Hiya, Darce!" Lydia waved as she called to him, standing up in the front seat of another convertible. "Like my costume? I'm a hooker!" She was something, clad in a leopard-print tube top, leather skirt and thigh-high boots.

"And I'm her pimp!" Wickham crowed from behind the wheel. "Throw in the candy, Darcy - we're late for the party!"

He wanted to throw the entire bowl at them, but the thought of wasting all that candy stopped him. Where the devil was his wife?

"I want my candy!" Lydia said with a bright-red pout. "Give it to me, baby."

"I'll give it to you," Wickham promised.

For the second time that evening, Darcy felt nauseous. He was only saved by the arrival of the Bingleys, Jane and Charles in identical angel costumes.

"Are we late?" Jane asked Lydia breathlessly, as if she had been running - or flying - a great distance.

"Nope!" Lydia cracked her gum and tried to proposition Charles in front of everyone, but Wickham grabbed her by the bottom of her mini skirt and pulled her onto his lap.

"Baby want to help Daddy drive?"

"Yay!" Lydia cried. "Hop in!" she told her sister and brother-in-law. Then she broke out into laughter. "I get it, Jane - you're Charlie's Angel!"

"Huh?" The Bingleys and Mr. Darcy were perplexed.

"Just get in!" Lydia snapped. "I'll explain later."

In a flurry of feather and leather, the convertible raced away.

Where the devil was Lizzy, he wondered for the hundredth time. Especially now that a woman in wide orange panniers and a tall powdered wig was struggling up the drive, more feathers flying as the birds in her hair began to molt.

"I'm not too late?" asked Caroline. "My car broke down at the gate."

"I haven't the faintest..."

"Never mind. I'll take a couple of those," she replied, grabbing some candy and wandering into the front hall. "I must go repair my wig."

"Um, OK."

Then Georgiana came out, resplendent as a young Mozart, took Marie Antionette in hand, and told her brother not to be too much longer handing out treats.

"Um, OK."

He was totally confused now. He went back indoors and set the almost-empty bowl down on a console while he considered his next move.

"There you are, William," Lizzy admonished. "I've been looking for you everywhere!"

Mr. Darcy looked up at the top of the stairs, where he had heard his wife's voice, and watched, open-mouthed, as a slender Aphrodite in a long, blonde wig floated down. Her floaty gown was a misty green, sleeveless and girdled about her waist with gold cord.

"Elizabeth! You look - "

Lizzy smiled. It was not often she could render this man speechless.

"Like it? Not too modest, not too revealing..." she told him.

"It's perfect! But I'm not dressing up as Cupid!" he told her.

"No need. You are dressed exactly as you should be. But come, our guests await."

"Our guests?"

"Come see." She gently led him to the ballroom, where all of his trick-or-treaters were gathered, dancing and drinking, eating and making merry.

"Happy Halloween!" everyone cried when the Darcys entered the room.

"Surprise!" Lizzy whispered.

"A party?"

"No, the surprise is..." she whispered that everyone was to enjoy themselves while they retired to their rooms.

"I believe the trick is on them, my dear," Mr. Darcy said with a huge smile, picking Aphrodite up in his arms and marching her out of the ballroom. "And we get all the treat!"

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!