Hallowe'en Costumes #2

Today's costume is for those of you who still cling to your religion like a security blanket, and want to reclaim Hallowe'en from the grubby chocolate-stained fingers of self-indulgent children.

Devout Reclaimer of Religious Holidays

You will need:

• Sackcloth
• Ashes
• An absence of food in your belly.
• The Holy Bible and other texts, treatises and tracts.

Begin a week before Hallowe'en. Focus your mind on All Saint's Day: the day after Hallowe'en. Consult your treatises and tracts for references to all the saints commonly venerated by every Christian denomination, just to be on the safe side. You don't want to be caught following the example of St. Tadger only to find that your denomination considers his canonisation to be the heretical action of an anti-pope, one no more fit to lead a church than an agnostic milquetoast. Compile a list of these saints, a brief overview of their good works and in particular the manner in which they were martyred. With the profoundest misery in your heart, retreat to your hovel and begin fasting, whiling away the empty hours by meditating on the violent and painful manners of their demises. Think of St. Andrew and St. Peter, nailed to their respective crosses, hanging there as they waited for our Lord to end their pain and bear them away to Heaven.

Not many will be sharing this experience with you, but do not allow a glimmer of pride to burn within your breast; crave only that icy pang of loneliness and misery. The absence of food in your belly should come in handy here, giving you the right idea. If you feel insufficiently wretched by this stage, seek to heighten your physical discomfort. Daub your face with ashes and don your sackcloth. Do not waste time on tailoring; simply tear holes in the jute sack for your arms and head. That will suffice.

It is highly likely that at some point you will find yourself growing bored with your meditations on the nature of martyrdom and the mortification of your flesh. This is only natural. It is of course entirely shameful as well, so at the first sign of boredom you may wish to scourge yourself. If you have no scourge set aside for the purpose, simply immerse your hands in scalding water and in your agony take up your Bible and read through Leviticus, all the while craving forgiveness from your Creator. That'll teach you.

The day before Hallowe'en, you may wish to make some preparations, anticipating as you are the arrival of demanding, sugar-addicted sprogs. Do not disappoint them! Decorate your house according to your new style by removing all pictures, all sculptures, all caricatures and anything else that might distract the eye from the simple purity of your house. As a rule of thumb, if it is gaily coloured, then it should be hidden away, smudged with ashes, or else destroyed. After an hour of this you may feel a kind of mania overtake you: imagine yourself raving under your breath, speaking in tongues and tearing the curtains from your windows and burning them in the rusted and pitted old iron fireplace. This is nothing at all to be ashamed of: the Lord has gifted you with a state of ecstasy.

But wait! What of the children themselves? Here they come now, dressed as demons and witches and the foul undead! Should they be turned from your hovel with naught but a clip round the ear to warm them on these bitterly cold nights? Never! You are on a mission. You must win their souls, sparing them from damnation. You have a long struggle ahead of you, and the role you play is but a small one, but do not become disheartened.

"Trick or treat!" they will demand; small gifts and sweetmeats in exchange for a freedom from dog's excrement through your letterbox. "Trick or treat!" You will need to prepare some treats for them. Something to remind them of their humility, and to allow you and all right-thinking people to rally against the rampant commercialism of this festival. But how should we diminish the influence of Mammon on this eve of All Hallow's Day?

The answer, my friends, is simple: gruel. Prepare the slops in the manner prescribed by the inestimable Mr Key, and when the tinies come bounding up to your door, proffering bags, baskets and other receptacles for you to fill, do so with three generous ladles of gruel. You will feel a thrill of warmth in your heart as the insipid grins fade from their grimy faces. But wait! your good deed is not yet finished! Offer a brief prayer for each of them to turn from the path of sin. This done, you may close the door with a hearty slam. You have done your part. Now they must do theirs.