It seems to have become a tradition. The first year, Carolyn convinced me to set up a few fun things for Hallowe’en: a bucket of gooey stuff that kids had to dunk their hands into before they got any lollies, and a mysterious box filled with “vampire teeth”. We carved pumpkins. It was fun, and a few of the neighbourhood kids out trick-or-treating dropped by.

Last year, we made kids dunk their hands in cat-gut stew. I dressed as a rather loud pirate, and my brother came over to help out, dressed as a zombie. He rode his unicycle up and down the street, juggling severed arms. If you’ve never seen a zombie with his face half-torn off making balloon animals, you haven’t lived. We went out of our way to find nice pumpkins to carve (not so early in this hemisphere). It was more fun, and even more people dropped by. Some people visited, then came back with friends. One or two families even drove from nearby suburbs to see what all the fuss was about.

This year, we were inspired to do something a bit bigger, as we might not be in the mood for a big Hallowe’en after The Penguin arrives. So we made a few plans.

We enjoyed some pumpkin carving and started to get some scary background sounds together (thanks Joel). We came up with some ideas of what to do to make this year different. You know that things are going to get interesting when you look out your back door and see mummy rags hanging on your washing line.

Based on our theme, and I made a few jars of experiments for my “laboratory”.

Along with a fizzling science experiment or two, I had several jars, including a giant spider, an octopus, a shrunken skeleton (he’d made a mess in my lab, so I shrunk him and his skin came off), and, for those who were not running away after looking through those, a jar of pickled spiders to offer for tasting. I also had some rather disgusting ectoplasm, which actually tasted pretty good. Not many wanted to try it with me, though.

There were also plenty of unusual pumpkins.

Then, the centrepiece of this year’s production: the werewolf autopsy. My assistant had turned into a werewolf, stolen the car, run someone over and made quite a mess. Luckily, I have comprehensive werewolf insurance.

I was forced to shoot him (six times with silver bullets).

Elysha dressed as witch, with Romilly as her cat-familiar. We also had a visiting helper mummy (though later in the evening he somehow transformed into a vampire lab-asssistant).

And so, with everything prepared for the evening, Dr Humbolt was ready (crazy accent and all).

As the children (and adults) came in, Dr Humbolt happily lead them into his laboratory. For the brave, a quick glimpse under the sheet proved that werewolves were out and about.

Using very scientific experiments, Dr Humbolt sucked blood right out of the chest of the werewolf corpse and into a cup. With the addition of the special ingredient (which has taken much research) this renders the werewolf blood into an antidote (unless it explodes) to protect against werewolf bites. Most, but not all, were convinced to drink this protective elixir.

After investigating the remainder of the laboratory, they were then sent off to have some werewolf poo biscuits (werewolves poop a lot, it seems), and to try to find some lollies in the buckets of worms and various sludges.

As dark fell, the laboratory’s blacklight left everyone glowing weirdly and contemplating the 50–60 people who had visited during the evening. Families had come back from last year (in one case, even after moving house), and many told us that they hoped we’d be here next year. One father proudly told Dr Humbolt that this was his son’s first Hallowe’en. He was ever so proud when his Spider-Man-son downed the werewolf antidote.

It had certainly been a strange and wonderful evening, and I don’t believe that it will be our last.

Unless the pumpkins eat us.