Masks scare me. Seeing someone in a mask scares me. Wearing a mask scares me. Sometimes, hearing other people talk about a mask scares me.
So tonight I went to a mask party. I borrowed CJ’s mask for this photo. . .
But actually wore this eye patch:
CJ made it look debonair.
Our host was suitably spectacular:
But his wife was the best. She wore her first mask for about an hour, and spoke not a word. The only sound she made was the jingling of bells as she moved – yet she still played hostess, and even re-introduced me to someone I haven’t seen since Year Four. It was one of the creepiest – and most fascinating – things I’ve ever seen. With absolutely no facial expression, she expressed herself perfectly. She wasn’t actually trying to be creepy, or to communicate so efficiently – she was just wearing a mask, and it took over.
They always do.
Each table had a white mask and paint to play with. We made this for the host, and he was confident enough in his manhood to wear it.
Somehow this mask was attached to balloons. For the rest of the evening, the air conditioning made it wander around the room – in absolute silence, of course. Oh, and the glitter stuck on the back made the eye-sockets glint in the artificial light.
I chose to paint this mask with red eyes. Because something that’s evil should look evil.
The weirdest thing of all is how good I feel, writing this after such a creepy evening. It doesn’t make sense. Maybe it’s relief that the floating mask of death didn’t steal my soul, and my red-eyed mask didn’t come alive, and the hostess didn’t eat anyone’s unborn child. Who knows?
Play along at home: You can buy white masks at toy and trick shops, often with a selection of paints and a brush. Alternatively, you can just eat a whole lot of cheese just before bed (for even cheaper, easier nightmares).
Reverse Burglary – I think this picture was lost to the aether this week. My apologies.
Look at the jar, and read thy name (or not). If it’s a derivative of your name, then that very jar is in your TV cabinet right now (and the Blackpool souvenir stick is in your couch).