Nurse the Hate: The Trick or Treat Laced Apple Story

Despite the pervasive Culture of Fear in which we all now live, I have not heard the re-telling of any wild urban legends about doctored Halloween treats.  This is a shame as this was a rite of passage for any child growing up in the days when news was mainly transmitted via story on the school bus.  Where do eight-year olds get their information now?  The Skimm?  What kind of upbringing is that?  I didn’t get photos of Kim Kardashian’s ass sent to a phone when I was 8.  I had to make my buddy Alan my news source.  Granted, he didn’t diligently vet his information or sources, but he really did have his ear to the ground.  Alan was the one that told me he knew, for sure, about how Keith Kunick’s running partner Steve had been horribly disfigured with a tainted apple a few Halloweens ago.

The story went like this…  Keith and his buddy Steve were trick or treating.  It wasn’t in this neighborhood.  It was somewhere else. Just far enough away that we didn’t know anyone there, but we had heard of it.  That made the story legit.  As a couple of teenage punks, Keith and Steve put the bare minimum into their costumes.  This enabled them to walk the difficult tightrope of demonstrating to others that they “didn’t care about this Halloween shit” despite the obvious duality of going trick or treating in the first place.  So, the story went that Keith and Steve went to a house where someone was giving out apples, a real drag but better than getting a dime.  They talked some shit to the man that was handing out the apples, and the guy was very deliberate in which ones he handed the boys.  The boys left the house, and Steve reached into his pillowcase to retrieve the apple.  As they walked along he took a big bite, and quickly gargled in pain and fear. 

The apple had been laced with a straight razor blade.  Steve had ripped his entire mouth apart, slicing a rip up his cheek exposing his molars.  Blood poured out of his face as he screamed, his words garbled as he had sliced off part of his tongue.  The boys ran home where they were rushed to the hospital.  Steve received countless stitches and was left with a hideous scar on his face.  His speech was forever ruined by the tongue wound.  All the kids made fun of him in school, so his family moved away.  That’s why I never met him.  He was three years older than us.  Ask Michael Johnson.  His brother Victor was in his class.  Alan was adamant of the truth and accuracy of the story.  It became a well known fact in our school.

I absolutely love urban legends.  At no time in any of these horror stories has the victim been someone that can be directly identified.  It’s a friend of my cousin, a kid the next town over, or a guy my brother knows.  The victim is close enough for it to hit home, but never close enough to verify the information.  The best stories have key details that lend an air of truth, yet when you dig in they don’t really add up.  Why didn’t the cops arrest the guy who gave them the apple?  (They were so freaked out they couldn’t remember which house it was!)  Why haven’t I heard this story from Keith directly?  (He doesn’t like to talk about it man.  Don’t bring it up.  He’ll kick your ass.)  Why haven’t my parents brought this up?  (They are worried about panicking all the kids!)

I knew that story was probably a lie, just like the ones about the cyanide in the Snickers, the poison in the apple cider and the pins in the Milky Way.  Still, I remember it as clearly as I do any other legend like Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny.  I know they are all bullshit, but they became part of my memory.  I will also tell you this.  I always look for a slit in an apple before I take a bite.  I'm not going to end up like that kid...