Elvis the Greek

A punk teen helps his friend on halloween to win the heart of a girl

Reese’s Pieces and Sweet Tarts roll out of the bowl shaped like a pumpkin and into all the various cauldrons and buckets of small children covered in costumes.  The bowl stops.  “Elvis, your eighteen years old, why are you trick-or-treating?”  He is about six feet tall and dressed up with a bed sheet worn like a toga.
    “Well Mrs. Smith, I’m getting candy for my little brother.”  A tilted, car-salesman smile reflects onto the old woman wearing with a pointy, black hat, and a black moo-moo disguised as a robe.  Her round, jolly face nearly falls off of the bone at this comment.
    “You don’t have a little brother, now get out of here before I call your parents.”  With a smirk on his face, he walks away.  It is obvious that Elvis Carmichael is up to something.  A switchblade slides up past his neck and then he presses the small metal ball, a comb pops out and he smoothes back his hair.  From the leather boots sticking out of the off-white bed sheet, to the Fonzie style hair, Elvis is a living biker from the fifties.
    A gentle smile comes over his face as a tiny cowboy walks by.  “Hey little partner, I’ll trade you this shiny nickel for that Reese’s cup.”  Holding his hand out to the child’s face, a small pair of teeth lock onto his thumb and forefinger.  “Ow!  You little son-of-a-b***h!  I oughta throw you into the bull-pen and see how well you can use that lasso.”  The boy runs away crying as Elvis notices his hand begins bleeding.  “How can something so little hurt so much?”  asking a parent walking by in a clown costume.  He just looks ahead to make sure that his baby lion tamer and two-foot-off-the-ground tight rope walker  stay away from the Greek biker thug.
    “Hey Carmikey, how’s the candy search goin?”  A short, ratty-voiced man in an ape suit comes up from behind holding a bucket full of Smarties, chocolate bars, and candy apples.  “Swan Street is the place to hit.”
    “Some cowboy bit me and that old Smith bag won’t share her loot with anyone over six feet tall I guess.  This sucks, why are we doing it again.”  Staring seriously into the eyes of a gorilla.
    “Cause if we get lots of free candy then I win a date from Annie Price.  She’s the short blonde cheerleader who just got her braces off.  I’d like to test her out if you know what I mean?” 
    Now the Greek gives the gorilla a really dirty look.  “You mean to tell me that I’m getting bitten and harassed so you can win a bet with Annie’s boyfriend?  Louis Preacher is not going to keep his end of the deal.  He just told you that so you could make an a*s out of yourself when you go to get the prize.”
    “No man, she said that the one of us that gets the most candy gets the sweets.  She was mad at him or something and picked me out of the crowd.  Must have known I liked her.”  Elvis sees a goofy, toothy grin through the gorilla mask.
    “Maybe it had something to do with you laying on the floor next to her locker the day she wore that short skirt last week, Bobby.”  Bobby’s furry shoulders hunch and a sentimental sigh hums lightly out of the holes in the mask.
    “Well I am not getting anywhere and my hand is bleeding now.  I’m going home to get some rest before the party at midnight.”
        “No!  You can’t leave me to do this by myself, Louis has all his little basketball buddies helping him.  I only have you.  This is my only chance to get someone good looking.  Ever.  You know that.”  He is a short, yellow shag carpet headed, punk with buck teeth and a wide flat nose.  The only dates he’s ever been on was with his little sister to the movies and with his parents out to dinner.
    “Alright but if I get bitten again I am not going to hesitate to let you make an a*s of yourself at that party all by yourself.”
    “Deal.  See you soon.”  Bobby skips away in a dancing-gorilla-got-a-banana sort of way.  Now all Elvis has to do is fill up five gallon bucket full of candy in the next hour so that he can get to the party on time.  Every house he goes on Stuart Street is handing out one piece of candy at a time, but at least he isn’t getting bitten.  Rounding onto Anthony Avenue, he spots Angela Lee and her friend Barbie Cline dressed up like Josie and a pussycat.
    “So kittens, how are you tonight?  His long Greek nose (a real Greek nose by the way) pointed up to make him superior brings some giggles from the girls dressed up in the pussycat costumes.
    “We’re good.  Hey Elvis?  Are you gonna be at my party later?”  Angela is the short red-head with the deep brown eyes, and the stomach you could eat off of.  She has a Halloween party every year and for the last two years she has invited Elvis over against the better judgment of her boyfriend, Stan.
    “Yeah Mr. Presl”    
    “Say it, and I see to it that your tale is fit into a very uncomfortable place Barbie.  Bye the way?  Where is Ken this evening?”  Smiling with his eyebrows raised as if he really cares anything about this tall blonde with an attitude like a blender stuck on puree.
    “Shut up El~vis,” turning to Angela in a normal tone of voice, “How can you talk to this scum bag?  He doesn’t even know that the fifties are over.” 
    Angela looks up to the stars and crunches her lips to the side giving off the impression that she is considering why she is inviting Elvis.  “Umm...I guess cause he’s hot.”  Her bubbly giggles are overshadowed by the hormonal sigh given off by Barbie.  “Well I’ll see you at midnight.  Hottie.”  Both Elvis and Angela walk away from each other with sparkling smiles that were only out-lit by the full moon.  Collecting candy is a breeze at this point.  A Kit-Kat here.  A fun-size Mounds bar there.  Each is just another second ticking away towards the party that will decide both his and Bobby’s love-fate for a long time.  Screaming echoes down the street as a burning gorilla is sprints past the Greek standing there counting his candy like gold coins.  Four pirates roll up in a Hummer holding up their plastic swords and chanting:
    “Burn monkey burn.”  Elvis turns to see his best friend rolling in the grass with a car full of jock swashbucklers surrounding him.
    “My girlfriend doesn’t like you.  Little ape, so go back to your little planet where you belong.”  Elvis walks up to them and stares, taps Louis the pirate captain, on the shoulder.  He points at his hand with the switchblade comb and all four swashbucklers back off slowly.  “Listen man, don’t cut me, we were just having a little fun with our friend, I mean I, oh s**t run.”  All four dive into their banana yellow ship on wheels and flee.
    “Are you alright Bobby?”  Elvis stares at the human head sticking out of the smoky ape costume.  “Do you need me to call the ambulance?”
    “No, but I can’t believe they did that?”  His tears and snot mix in a slimy yellow sludge at the edge of his furry neck.
    “What happened anyway?”
    “I was walking down Buffalo Street and I saw Annie, so I stopped to talk to her.  She told me that she actually did like me and that she hoped I won so that she could can her boyfriend fair and square.  Then as I turned onto Banner Street, Louis and his cronies threw some gas on me and lit a match.  Running as fast as I could I came down this way and then” he paused to wipe away the snot and tears, “you saw me.”
    “Alright.  Well we can’t go to the party tonight, my little comb trick will probably only work once.”
    “No man we have to go, otherwise I’ll never have a chance.”  Both walking down the street to where Elvis left his candy.
    “This is all I have, if you want to go, I’ll back you up.”  Walking down the street  a biker punk Greek and a little smoking ape holding a bucket of candy are ready to face a yellow Hummer of pirates.