Today is my first day at my KBON.com. I'll start by writing a story. Here it is. I call it "The Chilly Day". Some names have been changed to protect the innocent.

It was a chilly day in October and Melvin was going nuts. He sat in front of the window drinking his lukewarm coffee with just the hum of his computer breaking the silence. It was snowing lightly. He watched the rest of the leaves fall from the trees with each gust of wind. He had writer’s block and nothing seemed to help him put words on his page. This was his sixth cup of coffee and his nerves were jangled. He about jumped out of his skin when the phone rang suddenly. He hated the Lone Ranger theme of his ringer that played in what seemed like triple time. His best friend Scruffy had programmed the phone for him when he first bought it. Melvin thought he really ought to read the owner’s manual and try to figure out how to change it but he just didn’t want to so he would suffer through the obnoxious ring.

It was his friend Wanda on the phone. She was just calling to talk it seemed because she really didn’t have anything important to say, at least not yet. She droned on incessantly as Melvin added the necessary “uh huh’s” and “oh, really?’s” every so often. He stared out the window as she talked, wishing he wasn’t tied to the phone by a cord. He really should look into buying a cordless phone one day. The garden was frozen and needed to be cleaned. His fingernails could use a cleaning, too. He’d at least clip them if he could only reach his nail clippers from here.

Soon he’d have to get dressed and look like he actually did something today. Scruffy would be over to eat supper in a few hours. What would he make for dinner tonight? Maybe he’d invite Wanda, too, and they could play some cribbage and build a fire in the fireplace. Melvin’s cat, Peanuts, would love that.

As Wanda droned on and on, all kinds of ideas for his book came to mind. The bad thing was, he didn’t have any paper and he couldn’t reach his keyboard from where he was. Maybe he should move his phone closer to his computer or even invest in a longer cord. And he should fill his desk drawers with some sort of snack. He was getting hungry as Wanda talked. He tried like heck to get a word in edge-wise but to no avail. She wasn’t listening. Maybe he should just hang up. Suddenly he shouted, “I smell something burning!”, said goodbye and an “I’ll call you back in a bit” and slammed down the phone. What a relief! Now he’d have to think up a reason for the burning smell before she called back. The furnace. Something with the furnace.

Finally free from Wanda, Melvin decided to move his phone. Just as he plugged it back in, it rang again with that awful triple-time Lone Ranger theme. Oh, how he hated that but it did make him laugh. Scruffy was good for that. Speaking of Scruffy, it was good ol’ Scruffy on the phone this time. He was already on his way over and something was amiss. Maybe it was the tone of his voice or the fact that he was out of breath but something was definitely wrong. Scruffy practically yelled that he’d be right over before he hung up. Stunned, Melvin realized he’d have to get dressed NOW.

When Scruffy arrived, he sat down on the sofa in Melvin’s tastefully decorated apartment. He was still out of breath. Melvin had popped some garlic toast into the toaster oven that he got as a Christmas gift last year. That’s what was burning! Garlic toast! He’d tell Wanda he was burning his garlic toast if she called back. When she called back. It would be when, not if. As Melvin brought out the garlic toast and the cribbage board, Scruffy began to spill his tail of woe.

Through the sniffles, Scruffy told of his fear of Halloween. It all began one night back in 1972. He was invited to a Halloween party at a little friend's house. This particular friend, whose name was Iggy, didn't have a Halloween costume to wear to go trick or treating in so his mother asked Scruffy's father if he could borrow a costume from Scruffy. See, Scruffy had just gotten one of those realistic rubber wolfman masks with the almost too small eye and nose holes and he was really looking forward to sporting it at the party. When his father got off the phone, he asked Scruffy if he would mind selecting a costume for little Iggy to wear.

"I think he should dress up like a girl!", shrieked Scruffy with an evil chuckle.

So off they went to the party with a girl's dress, shoes and makeup. Scruffy thought they were just going to drop off the costume and then return home to eat some supper and get ready for the party which was several hours away yet. After traveling for several miles and being almost halfway to Iggy's house, Scruffy's dad shouted, "Alright, Scruff, get your costume on! We're almost there!" Stunned, Scruffy began to cry hysterically. "B-b-b-but dad!!! I don't want to dress up like a girl!"

Back at Melvin's apartment, Scruffy was crying on his garlic toast and getting his cards all wet with big, salty tears. Melvin really didn't know what to do. He had no idea that Scruffy was still so humiliated so many years later. He went to get a paper towel to dry off his coffee table, the cribbage board and the cards. Scruffy could eat his garlic toast wet. Melvin wasn't about to attempt to dry that off.

Suddenly a lightbulb went off in Melvin's head. He would cure his friend of his Halloweenophobia once and for all by taking him out on Halloween night to show him that there was nothing to be so frightened of. He tried to console Scruffy as best he could but it wasn't easy.

"There, there, now ol' Scruff. That was a long, long time ago. Let's finish our game and talk of something else."

Just as Scruffy began to shuffle the damp deck, there was a knock at the door. It was Wanda and her little dog, Floppy. Floppy went right for Scruffy's garlic toast the second he was in the door. Scruffy growled at him and the little doggy galloped away, yelping and drooling. Wanda marched right in and sat down on the oversized purple recliner, almost sitting on Floppy's tail. "What're ya doin'?, she asked disinterestedly. Melvin inwardly scoffed, thinking how obvious it was, what with a cribbage board and garlic toast out on the coffee table. "Just playin' some cribbage, Wanda. Have some garlic toast," he offered.

"I have something to confess," said Wanda quietly. "It's almost Halloween and I have something to tell you guys that just can't wait anymore. Every year about this time I become frightened of ... well, I don't know of what, but some memories haunt me and I just can't hold it in anymore. You see, it all began way back in, I think it was 1972 or thereabouts."

As she continued her tale, Melvin and Scruffy dropped their cards. They looked at each other with eyes wide and jaws on the ground. Wanda's tale was exactly the same as Scruffy's except that she was the one wearing the wolfman mask! Could it be? Was Wanda formerly Iggy?? This was too much for Melvin's mind.

The silence that followed was extremely awkward for everyone.

"What's the matter? Oh, I knew I shouldn't have said anything!," cried Wanda ... or Iggy.

"No, no, it's okay," offered Melvin. "You're still our friend, Wanda." Somehow he felt odd calling her Wanda even though that's the only name and gender she had as far back as he knew her. Then Scruffy repeated his tale of Halloween trauma so many years ago. Wanda and Scruffy looked at each other. Oh how simple it would have been if only their parents hadn't interfered. Neither one would have had such Halloween trauma had they only been able to choose their own costumes. "I wanted so to dress up like a girl. I had the clothes and makeup all picked out. The only thing missing was the pair of shoes I would wear. Instead I had to dress up as a dreadful wolfman in a mask I couldn't even breathe through. Oh, it was so hot and steamy in there. I thought I would surely die."

"And I wanted to dress up in my new wolfman costume. I could have cared less about breathing. I just wanted to be a wolfman," sobbed Scruffy. They embraced, shed a few more tears and then returned to their seats.

"Garlic toast, anyone?" Melvin was feeling quite awkward at the moment, lacking any suggestion as to what to do next. Suddenly his plan for curing Scruffy wasn't needed. It seemed as though both had been quite relieved to have finally gotten their stories of woe out. A good time was then had by all present and the incident was never mentioned again.