People assure me that Trick-or-Treaters still exist. I don't believe it myself. Every year, in the late afternoon of October 31, I smack myself in the head and rush to the supermarket to stock up on dispensable candy. (As opposed to the late afternoon of every other day, when I simply smack myself in the head.) And every November 1 for about the last decade or so, I stare at a mountain of undispensed candy. Of course, I have no doubt that the one year I decide not to bother will be the year the Trick-or-Treaters return. I will then improvise: Loose change! Post-it notes! Individually-wrapped slices of American cheese!
One time, I did forget about Halloween. Sure enough, three adorable princesses knocked on the door. I had a tin of cookies. Luckily, the princesses were distracted by my adorable kitty cat, and so begrudgingly accepted the stale baked goods. Actually, in a pinch, I guess I could just distribute cats.