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Trick or treat on the street

The view of a crosswalk between Prospect street, with the Eating Clubs Cannon, Quad, Ivy, and Cottage in view but partially obstructed by mostly bare trees.
Candace Do / The Daily Princetonian

The following content is purely satirical and entirely fictional.

On Tuesday evening, Oct. 31, one fearless correspondent for The DailyPrintsAnything will again brave the cold to report on Prospect Ave’s little-known trick-or-treating event. Here is an account of last year’s adventure.

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Accompanied by my videographer Holly Ween ’25, I set off from the quiet and cozy ‘Prints’ newsroom on University Place for the tricks, treats, and thrills across campus. 

We started off at Charter, where we were just told to come back Friday night. I politely asked if there was anything they might have to offer to us trick-or-treaters now. Disappearing inside briefly, the guy who opened the door for us returned with some “Chef’s Whim,” something we were assured was “a Charter thing.” 

Feeling rather athirst for a drink after the whim of the chef, Holly and I went directly to Tiger Inn. The line was short for TI, only 4 hours! I rang the doorbell and before I could say trick or treat, we were each handed a pint of beer. I’m pretty sure they were unaware we were trick-or-treating.

We then crossed back over Prospect Ave and knocked on the door of Cloister. As soon as it opened, we were knocked aback by the force of a literal firehose blasting beer. Soaked, we staggered away, having encountered our first trick of the night. “And people complain about getting a little pee-beer rained on them in the backyard,” Holly commented, wiping off her camera equipment. 

Cap and Gown had a pumpkin full of BodyHype tickets that we helped ourselves to, and we decided against calling someone to the door and having to bicker to get in. 

Cottage members were still reveling in Oktoberfest from earlier this month, and we joined the celebration of German culture and teenage drinking. We were told all Bud Light drinkers would be forcibly removed.

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Next up was Ivy, where we were greeted at the door by a number of personal assistants and received chocolates from all over the globe, brought back by the many international students in the club. By all over the globe, we mean all over Europe.

Across the street at Colonial, we received what looked like a printed screenshot of one of those inescapable, omnipresent emails promoting a Taylor Swift night. Appearing quite excited, a number of members offered to do our physics homework while we roamed the street.

Crossing again to the Quadrangle Club, we were pleasantly surprised to find that our favorite party was still raging. Quad members loaded up our trick-or-treat bags with Shit that Glows: glowsticks, facepaint, and mixed drinks that look, taste, and have the effects of a radioactive ingredient. As we were leaving, we heard someone entering saying, “Hey, let’s go to quadrilateral!” That actually happened. I’m not making that up. I’m actually not making any of this up. 

At Cannon, we were treated to a fun game of launching things from the cannon. Setting our bags down, we shot pumpkins, basketballs, and other spherical objects at the Bendheim Center for Finance across the street. We had no idea that Cannon's cannon was actually fully functional, or that the athletes were so adept at advanced ballistics. 

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At Tower, we found that the candy there, like alcohol, was free, if you paid for it. Declining to pay social membership dues, we were prepared to carry on empty handed, but spotted a hollow pumpkin. Inside were laminated resumes, and Holly took some hoping to hire someone to fix her beer-ruined videography equipment. 

Like the health-conscious family of the neighborhood who gives a box of raisinets to each trick-or-treater, the Campus Club offerings were decidedly less exciting than the rest of the street. We accepted water bottles, toothbrushes, and floss, all with the Princeton logo. Someone said upstairs they were giving away bug spray, something having to do with a flea infestation?

Last up, at that point nearing morning, we stumbled to Terrace, so alternative it’s not actually on the street. Grooving to some unidentifiable sounds, ostensibly music, we enjoyed an end-of-the-night vibe sesh. Our trick-or-treat haul from the Terrans consisted of a CD of the band, a joint, and a painted flower pot. 

Altogether, a successful night of trick-or-treating, and we look forward to doing it again this year.

Emmett Souder is a first-year contributing Humor writer. He wrote this piece, except for all the parts that weren't funny. He can be reached at js0735@princeton.edu