A dark and festive revelry we commenced in these days now past most proximately. Our carnal natures finally expressed by the garbs in which we chose to adorn ourselves. Merry was the night, and substances of nature's own boon were hailed for their potency.

I myself fancied the bourbon of Bullet. 1858 - a very fine year. And I was awash with the fever of Hallow's Eve. Me and my fine gentlemen with morning coats to sport amidst the frocks and damsels of greater Burlington. Though I do wish I could have taken the night with my now past Elenore, taken by consumption years hence.

But for the one night, I need not grieve and night be worthy of future praise. And as such, I paraded around my auto-mobile until a mansion of dark and insidious desire did catch my eye. And there, in the basement, under the tromping of feet and the throbbing of dance, did I find a group of individuals; their faces obscured by smoke and their laughter intoxicating. I was not there long as Eve herself pulled me from the room to discuss my top hat and pocket watch.

I hope to God this "temperance movement" never finds more success than the fleeting thoughts I give it.