So, which house do you think is the most likely to get egged by angry trick-or-treaters?

Exhibit a) From Chester Springs, Pennsylvania:

Exhibit b)

Exhibit c)

Exhibit d) From Jackson, Mississippi:

Exhibit e) Spotted by Greg in Escondido, California:

Exhibit f) Spotted by Tyree in Oakridge, Oregon

related: Some advice for would-be pumpkin smashers

“My best friend works at a hospital as a RN,” Jesse writes, “and one day, after a ridiculously long shift, she reached into the breakroom candy dish expecting, well, candy, and got a handful of pushpins instead. She wrote this note because a) she’s a smartass and b) to warn others.”

Jesse continues: “Minutes later, a doctor came in, reached into the candy dish, and popped one into his mouth. Then he spit it out, exclaiming, ‘This isn’t candy!’ My friend looked at him, and with a straight face said, ‘That’s why the note is there, Doctor.’ He looked down, read the note, and promptly left the room.”

Adds Jesse: “But seriously, what kind of troll puts push pins in a candy dish?”

related: THIS IS A CANDY-OPTIONAL OFFICE

Well, Dad? What have you got to say for yourself?

(Thanks to Katie in Kansas City for submitting!)

related: Why didn’t you tell me the tooth fairy wasn’t real?

There’s a vending machine troll on the loose in Chicago!

related: The Candyman Can’t

Writes Heather in Kentucky: “I keep a basket of candy on my desk, but after having my candy basket completely cleaned out during the night shift on several occasions, I started locking it in my boss’s office overnight.”

A few mornings later, she arrived at her desk to find this oh-so-thoughtful note from one sugar-deprived night-shift worker.

related: This is a candy-optional office

Spotted next to a festive bowl of Halloween candy in a university administrative office: a preemptive strike at the Jeffs of the world.

(I love it.)

related: Cupcakes make people…

If you’re looking for an opportunity to study the unique social behavior of primates, there’s a compound in Orlando, Florida you might be interested in visiting.

Consider the package below, which a female named Misty (and no, that’s not a pseudonymous nod to Dian Fossey) recently found outside her dwelling, #14302, apparently left there by the group of lower-ranking females residing directly below.

As you’ve observed, Dr. Goodall, dominant female chimpanzees have been known to deliberately kill the young of other females in the troop in order to maintain their dominance, so perhaps the preemptive Heath-bar offering accompanying the plea for quiet was an intelligent move on the part of these lesser-ranked females.

I’m sure you’ll agree, however, that further scientific study is necessary before any conclusions are drawn.

related: Please get yourself some slippers.

Larissa in Tacoma, Washington recently sent her 7-year-old son, Silas, to a week of Bible camp. When he came home, Larissa says, she wondered if the experience hadn’t left him a bit…conflicted…especially after seeing the pillow he made during craft time.

(“Rouls,” by the way, is not Silas’s last name. That’s the 7-year-old spelling of “RULES.”)

Meanwhile, I can see how the sign below, from a candy store in Rayne, Louisiana — which I assume was intended to deter this theft — could easily send a particular type of child into a tailspin of religious guilt.

Is God smiling? How do I know if God’s smiling? Does God like chocolate? I don’t think chocolate’s in the Bible. But Proverbs says: ‘My child, eat honey, for it is good.’ So maybe I should get a Bit o’ Honey instead. But a Bit o’ Honey costs more than 50 cents, and Mom said I could only spend 50 cents. So then I’d be dishonoring my parents, and that wouldn’t make God happy. So maybe I should…maybe I should….[bursts into tears]

related: What Would Jesus Do for a Klondike Bar?

According to reports we’re receiving here at PAN headquarters, it appears that proletarians with a predilection for the chocolate-cookie-caramel confection known as Twix are battling Soviet-like conditions in order to procure their precious candy bars. 

In some areas, workers are forced to pay a hefty premium (unlike the bosses and bigwigs upstairs). 

Even then, what remains for the masses is likely to be rejected, bottom-of-the-carton stock.

And in the hardest hit areas, shortages have led hungry Twix lovers to beg for mercy from The Man himself. 

(Thanks to informants Sean in Philadelphia, Rachel in Salt Lake City, and Mark in Buffalo.)

related: Comrades, take notice!

extra credit: Twix bars unfairly taxed in Colorado? [WSJ.com]