Merry Christmaween

It's one o'clock in the morning on Halloween and I'm dashing across the Jay St platform from the F to the A to head back to Manhattan from a party in Brooklyn. I am dressed as Batgirl, and the car, which is already filled with people, sports several Men In Black, a pair of 20s gangsters, the Pillsbury Doughboy, Raggedy Ann, a couple of "cats" (and by that I mean the generic skanky outfit with ears that passes as a costume in some circles), the cast of the Jersey Shore, and an assortment of others. In fact, there was exactly one person in the whole car who was not in costume, and she looked terrified to be there. Most of the people on the train had clearly been imbibing, and it was a pretty lively car. The Pillsbury Doughboy decided to start singing Christmas carols--according to his friends, this was his typical drunken behavior--and started taking requests. Receiving none, he launched into the absolute LOUDEST version of Rudolph that I have ever heard. This apparently annoyed the Men In Black, who started asking for Frosty the Snowman, shouting "Sing Frosty or nothing!" The Doughboy did not oblige, but instead moved on to Silent Night when he'd finished with Rudolph. Thwarted, the MIB got off at Canal St, and Doughboy left with his friends at 14th St. Poor Raggedy Ann was very raggedy indeed, and had to be helped off the train by her slightly more sober friends.