Mr. Lu‡atan wasa real a-hole, as Whitesox was fond of saying. He claimed that Halloween was a disgusting, depraved, celebration of a pagan holiday, that it promoted child sacrifices, bloody communion, and all manner of decadence, not excluding teen pregnancy and abortion. In other words, all things that a good christian boy or girl should find abhorrent.

"And that's why I insisted, ten year ago when I accepted a position with this fine institution's history department, that I insisted that the traditional halloween festivities be replaced by something wholesome- like a sock-hop," Mr. Lu‡atan had said one day in class.

"But what if I'm not a good christian boy?" Duke had asked one day when, unasked, Mr. Lu‡atan had been giving this speech for the about a millionth time.

Mr. Lu‡atan's face had turned red. "What are you saying?"

"Seperation of chruch and state, right? I don't gotta be a Christian to go to school."

Face had turned even redder. "That's true, but you do have to be polite, you insolent cur!"

Mr. Lu‡atan always talked like that. Even Tabatha, who couldn't cuss without getting the giggles, called him an a-hole dryly.

"Besides, Mr. Lucky, 'Halloween' is just a mis-pronunciation of All Hallow's Eve, the day before All Saints Day."

"Really?" Terry had asked, which made Duke bold in the first place, because he was secretly in love with Terry and here gigantic hooters.

"Yup. In Mexico it's Los Dios de los muertos, or The Day of the Dead. And like All saint's day, it's Christian holidays."

No one had actually ever seen Mr. Lu‡atan breath fire, but many believed that he would. certainly steam wa spouring our of his ears when he screamed at Duke that day, "Go to the principal's office immediately!"

The end result? Mr. Lu‡atan had gotten Duke banned from future sock hops and any other dances at the school.

"Good." Duke had said, insolently, because even though he hated Lu‡atan's guts, he knew Terry was going to be there, and when she hopped, she really bopped. Oh well.

So even though Duke wasn't there, and Mr. Lu‡atan was, it was still a pretty good sock hop. Melrose was the local expert on music and even he admitted some of them old fifties tunes couild be pretty cool.

Of course, Mr. Lu‡atan tried to ruin everything by wandering throughh the dance floor, making sure nobody touched while dancing, and frowning like some kind of weirded-out muppet at Steve and Lawrence, the captain of the football and wrestling team, respectively, who always danced together.

But eventually even Lu‡atan had to use the can, and almost like magic, that was when Duke just waltzed in like he owned the place.

"Hey, babies, what's up?"

Everybody gathered around Duke, who was not only there, but also dressed in one bitching halloween costume. It was a devil's costume, but like a high-society devil- expensive tux, solid gold 666 lapel pin, red head, huge horns that didn't look corny at all, red hands with hugo-matic fingernails, and even cloven hooves for feet!

"Duke, kick ass!" Whitesox said.

"Yeak Duke," Tony said, "if Lu‡atan yells at ya, just send his ass to hell."

"What are you doing, anyway?" Terry asked him.

Duke and his group were over by the punch bowl. Duke pulled a flask out of his pocket, and began to empty it into the bowl of cranberry juice and seven up. "Well. I think sock-hops suck. You know what I mean? They encourage teens pregnancy, and blood sacrifices, and low math scores. We can't have that!"

"Spiking the punch. Duke? A lttle vodka, maybe, or some gin?"

"Yes." Duke grinned, "And some old spanish fly I found in my brother's foot locker, and some castor-oil. You know, the usuals ingrediants to ensure good christian boys and girls don't go crazy and start screwing like ducks while ripping the heads off of live chickens." Duke was getting a little weird.

"Duke, are you okay?" Terry asked.

Just then, an enormous green scaly suckered tentacle burst out of the punch bowl, waived around for a few seconds, wrapped itself around Duke, then sucked him right back down into the punch bowl.

"Jesus christ!"

"What the hell was that!" "I didn't even have time to scream!"

Everybody peered into the punch bowl, but from a safe distance. "Somebody get Steve and Lawrence!" somebody said. "No, Principal Von Peebles, " somebody else said.

Just then, Mr. Lu‡atan walked up. "What's going on here? Quite this malingerting immediately! Disperse! Now!"

"But Mr. Lu‡atan!"

"Don't Mr. Lu‡atan me! I told you to break it up!" Mr. Lu‡atan clapped his hands together, like they were a bunch of dogs or something.

BLARRRGGGFFFF. In a spray of seven up, cranberry juice, and probably a little vodka, gin, spanish fly, and castor oil, Duke burst out of the punch-bowl and sailed over everyone's head into the corner.

"Argh," he muttered.

Terry noticed that, although moistened, his costume was stilly tres bitcchin.

Mr. Lu‡atan stalked over to him. "Duke! What are you doing here? You've been banned from all school dances!"

"Hey man, I was just sucked into that punch bowl!"

"Well, you should be here in the first place!" Mr. Lu‡atan pointed a finger at Duke, who was trying to get back to his feet hooves. "You're trespassing! Leaver now or I will call the police and have you shot!"

The tentacle had been inching itself along the floor, and wrapped itslef aruond Mr. Lu‡atan's leg.

"Stop that," Mr. Lucky said, slapping at the tentacle, not seeming to relaize what it was. He went back to Duke. "Do I have to shout! I said leave right now! Go!"

The tentacle tensed, and whipped Mr. Lu‡atan around the room for a few moments before sucking him down into the punch bowl.

Everybody ran over to Duke.

"Dude!"

"Whoa!"

"What happened?"

"What was really in that flask, Duke?"

Duke stood up, and tried to wipe seven-up, cranberry, juice, etc. off his forehead. "That was about a thousand times better than that joint we smoked in the little league dugout last winter," he said.

"No way!"

BLARRRGGGFFFF. The punch bowl barfed again, this time a gore-coated skeleton wearing shoes.

"What the hell?"

"Jesus!

"Is that Mr. Lucy?"

"It is! I recognize his shoes."

BLAMMO. The punch bowl exploded, leaving behind shattered plastic and a sticky mess cranberry etc. mess, and not much else.

"Hey Duke, you got any of the concoction left?"

Just then, Principal Von peebles walked by. "Nice costume, Duke. Is that skeleton yours too?"

"No sir, it's Mr. Lu‡atan."

"Good. Saves me the trouble of firing the little bastard. I never liked him." Principal Von Peebles moved on.

"I guess you get to stay, Duke, Terry said.

They found some socks for his hooves and hopped the night away.