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Halloween: The Rise of the Chocolate Mafia - L. E. Carmichael
Ah, Halloween. When I was a kid, it meant three things: 1) Trying to come up with a costume that would fit OVER my parka, because it’s cold in southern Alberta after dark at the end of October. One year, my mom got free boxes from the grocery store, cut arm and neck holes, and painted them – my brother was a die and I was a domino. We were the hit of the neighbourhood. 2) Losing most of my haul to said mother, because that was before peanut-free factories, and half of what was in my pillowcase would have …