Spirit World: a Voyage of Discovery

Today is our scheduled visit to Hayling Island on our own yachts, and what an unseasonably warm and sunny day for it.
We had to get towed a bit against the tidal flow through Sewage Works Straits out into the Solent but then we were off.
We parked up by the Hayling Funfair and were allowed into LandLubberVille to buy food from the café, I had a double Flake 99 for £1.50 but others had chips.
Because we got back to base with time to spare, we all paddled about in the sea still in our westuits and one of us drifted out over the mud near the slipway and we had to make a human chain to rescue him, all good fun.
We got home and the house was empty so we did a quick change and in my swimming lesson, there were only 6 other swimmers in the whole pool! They must all be out doing something else. The new teacher was trying to teach us the really safe and rubbish dive that beginners have to go through and I showed her my Mediterranean dive and she said goodness me you'll have to teach me that. But when we got home, the junction outside our house was hilarious. Various marauding bands of zombies and dead princesses had gathered outside the newsagent for a pow-wow to decide which roads they were going to bandit-ify next.
Anyway, because poor old Jof had been off work with the lurgy, we left her on her own to cope with the Trickle-Treaters, making the little kiddies scream when she opened the door, and that's without the scary costume. I opened the door to the first lot, then we scarpered. We took a quiet side road which had a pumpkin in a window and one on a car because we correctly figured that nobody goes down the side streets, so I Terminated at them and my first solo freelance trickle treating was highly profitable, especially when I said "Trick or Treat" in an Austrian robotic voice.
The Puddlers had already done their trickling so we had sausage inna bun and did the lucky dip and sat outside jumping out at people going rarrgh and put on a DVD and let the adults get on with their usual worthless activities. Everyone said that my Terminator costume was ace but Bob stole my gun. We shared out the Stonehenge cookies or the Submarine museum biscuits or whatever they were this time.
As usual this meant that Bud tried and failed to carry me home, for he now only even tries when drunk. When we finally staggered back, Jof said that she'd practically run out of eyeballs and someone had nicked the little pumpkin.