Adult Witch Costume - Click Here
Adult Salem Witch Costume - Click Here
Four men who want to stop smoking cigarettes
I have not met them in person, but I have looked into their souls. They have some bad habits, not the least of witch is smoking cigarettes. They chase women, drink whiskey and scotch, play with purple lizards, and tell tales. One rides a bike now, two drove big rigs, one wears a white hat, and all four had to kick bad habits. This is the story of how they quit smoking.
Don't give these men cigarettes or fire for Halloween. They need candy.
If you've never smoked, then you don't know the torture that it brings on a daily basis. Without a butt to walk around with, life is a lonely series of painful hours, days and weeks. The toughest thing to whip is a tobacco habit and these guys had it bad.
Mickey realized it the day he couldn't pedal up the hill near his house. He had done it many times before, but cigarettes had ruined his lungs. Marlboros had turned the pink, moist flesh of them into dark lifeless balloons. For sure, he was a Marlboro man. But now to mount the hill seemed like the hardest thing he had ever done since taking that little blue pill the day before.
Charlie was out bird watching, walking his pet lizard, and eating boiled parrot eggs when a painful stab in his left armpit left him shaking and jonesing for a fresh hand rolled smoke. He never thought his brand of smokes would turn on him like this. Legal or not, the smoke had always been a friend. Lungs and mind expanded by the evil pleasure of inhaling strange substances was a gateway to the best poetry he had ever written. Now, it was stop smoking or stop writing and he couldn't live without his pen.
Ken had actually hauled the damn cigarettes in heavy loads across the frozen tundra of Canada where the winds were so strong, a man really has to smoke cigars just to keep them lit. Tobacco was tobacco no matter the shape of the thing, and he had invested time in many shapes and sizes of things not the least of which was the burning pleasure of nicotine. The CB'ers called him Saddlerider, but I think he was the one being ridden. It was time to stop.
Wayne thinks a lot. He thinks most when he lights up. Another Marlboro Man, Wayne can't go very far without his pack of reds. He used to get high on jet fuel, but traded that for the wild west Texas skies. He keeps an extra pack under his hat just in case. Wayne hates the fags, but they keep him hooked. Even Texas is not big enough to exhale all the smoke he can do in a day. He writes his thoughts down frequently. About as frequently as he smokes that chain. Now he wants to break the shackles of bondage and quit.
Now, all of these men had tried to quit smoking many times during their lives. They tried the gum. They tried the patch, They tried other drugs. But only the demon nicotine could soothe the beastly urges that drove them on day after day, week after week, year after year. Quitting the habit has been beyond their considerable strength. All of them sought the magic solution of salvation.
And so it came to pass that the four unrelated men happened across the same article one day. The story promised deliverance from the cursed affliction of cigarettes. The advertisement promised that after only one treatment, they would stop smoking immediately and painlessly. The hub was filled with photos of beautiful women (which is probably what drew them there in the first place). The hub showed clean lungs and other body parts. They couldn't wait to write their comments and rate the hub up to the limit. This is something they could sink their teeth into!
Being men of economical inclinations (they were cheap), they all discussed it among themselves and the witch promising the cure for their aching, blackening lungs. Yes, they wanted to quit and they wanted to quit right away! Could they get a group rate?
The woman agreed and the four made plans to fly to a secret location somewhere in the New England area of the country. It was October and flights to Salem were hard to come by, but Wayne had connections and they made it to their destination and checked into the Inn.
A Halloween Bonfire
The next morning, the four men were sitting around having coffee and maybe a wee bit of spirits in the coffee, after all, it was Salem, Massachusetts, and it was time for the spirits to come out, so drinking their breakfast seemed like a good idea at the time. Of course, morning cigarettes were lit and they were puffing away at what would be their last day of being smokers, or so they hoped.
They trudged on down to the doctor's office for their group appointment. How this treatment would work in one day was troubling them.
"What can make a guy quit smoking after just one treatment?", was the question on everyone's mind.
The doctor was a woman and an attractive one at that, so they began to relax in the big overstuffed chairs in the office. They soon discovered that the treatment consisted of hypnosis and regression therapy.
"You're not going to make us cluck like a chicken, are you?", said Charlie.
"What if we fart while we're under?", asked Wayne
"Are you sure this will work?", Ken wanted to know.
"I'm not afraid", Mickey stated.
So they listened to the doctor and slowly, but surely, they all succumbed to the hypnotic cadence of her voice, the soothing scenarios she placed in their heads and the positive acceptance of learning just what had made them start smoking in the first place.
They went back in time to become their ancestors who had come over on the Mayflower. The brave men and women who had landed at Plymouth Rock had in one way or another actually been connected to these four men who had scattered to the winds of change. But the urge to smoke had followed them to the present day. Under hypnosis, they saw themselves in front of a tribunal of judges, like the ones from the Salem Witch Trials.
The judges were passing down a sentence that none deserved, yet became their fate anyway. They were witches! warlocks! Burn them! Burn them! Take them to the town square and tie them to the stake and burn them!
The men writhed in their stupor while the images of the townspeople dragging them to the square and forcing them to the stake poured into their mind's eye. They saw the stacks of wood being placed at their feet. They heard the crackle of the fire start and whoosh into life. They screamed for their innocence! The puritans just screamed back, "Burn, Witches, Burn!"
In the crowd was a true witch and she had loved all four of the men being burned at the stake. She was helpless to stop the torture less she be burned herself. How to help? She finally saw what she had to do. She conjured up the great cloud of smoke above the fire and yelled at them, "Breathe the smoke, it will kill you before the fire does and you won't feel the pain!".
Yes, breathe the soothing smoke they realized. It is the lesser of the two evils. The smoke will save us!
The therapist woke them from their agony and they were stunned to realize that the air never smelled so sweet as in the present day and time. They knew that their days of smoking were over. They did quit that very day, painlessly.
And the witch that saved them? She still watches over them and at Halloween, she sneaks into their beds at night and kindles the fire again.