The Halloween Costume Requires Further Review

Fellow members, Halloween preparations have reached a delicate stage. The big toe’s proposed costume has been returned by the Costume Approval Office with the phrase FURTHER REVIEW stamped across the drawing and, for reasons nobody can explain, across a banana.

The original proposal was simple: the toe would dress as a finger. I considered this clever, affordable, and educational. The approval office considered it identity fraud. Its guidance states that any toe impersonating a finger must demonstrate a legitimate hand-related purpose and remain at least three feet from all gloves.

We revised the costume to ‘mysterious finger-shaped visitor.’ This was rejected as evasive. We then proposed a ghost, using a small square of white fabric with two eyeholes. The Safety Division objected that the subject has no eyes and therefore the holes might mislead the public. Closing the holes created what the design team described as ‘a tissue.’

A vampire costume showed promise until Facilities noted that the cape dragged on the floor, which is admittedly where most toe capes drag. The tiny plastic fangs could not be attached without tape, and the tape had already been allocated to the crosswalk. The vampire was placed on indefinite nocturnal hold.

Meanwhile, the Candy Logistics Unit performed a capacity study. A standard trick-or-treat bucket can hold several pounds of candy but cannot be carried by a toe without assistance from a foot, ankle, leg, and cooperative adult. Their recommended solution was a thimble. It holds one candy corn or two optimistic raisins.

I called an emergency costume conference. Suggestions included a pirate, a wizard, a baked potato, and ‘something with dignity.’ The pirate required a ship. The wizard required sleeves. The potato was disqualified because it was less a costume than an uncomfortable comparison. Dignity was ruled unavailable in our size.

At last, I exercised presidential authority and approved a costume requiring no materials, permits, or structural support. The big toe will attend as itself, but undercover. It will use the code name Mr. Thumb and speak only when absolutely necessary, which should be straightforward.

The Costume Approval Office accepted this arrangement on the condition that Mr. Thumb not claim jurisdiction over the hand. The Candy Unit issued one thimble and a tracking form for every sweet received. We expect the paperwork to outweigh the candy by dusk.

Preparations are complete. If anyone asks, we have never seen this toe before in our lives. Please give it chocolate.

Yours in good standing, The President