Impossible Without at Least 1 Live Chicken and a Rabbi

Today the teacher had made 100 chocolates for us and we honoured her dedication by consuming the lot.
Good old Billy Wind was out in gale force again and I scooted home against all odds, Phil Collins not included.
Now Jof had another of her days-off again so had done all sorts of chores and sorting things out: I earned some pocket money by running around the house delivering gloves and summer clothes to their destinations various.
But by far the most important thing that she had done was sort out my Halloween costume.
In the dim and distant, the people celebrating the one night of the year when the spirits of the dead roam abroad (maybe as far as mainland Spain) wore masks and pillowcases and make-up to avoid being recognised by said ghosties.
 It was thought that they could do you no harm if they didn't know who you were, which is about as much good as the current cures for Ebola like cabbage water and singing backwards.
But in our enlightened times, we dress up as pirates and demand sweets from local residents with veiled threats of past-their-sell-by-date eggs.
In 100 years, will the kids dress up as Islamic terrorists or rap artists? No, they will dress up as humans, because by then the Zombie Apocalypse will have happened and everybody will be a brain-slurper. So to anticipate future dress codes, here I am as my favourite character. See if you can guess who I am!
After another few layers on the Lego Tower Of Doom we had family Red Dwarf night.