Last year, for some inexplicable reason, the guy decided to dress up for Halloween. Not for a party. Not to hand out candy for the little kiddies. For work. For the Halloween costume contest. It took him many hours, and many more dollars, to assemble a Jedi costume. He headed off to work, light sabers in hand, as I shook my head. He came home a Jedi winner.
This year, he decided to be Magneto. I’m thrilled, hoping and praying he’d choose the Ian McKellan Magneto, because, duh, the guy is magical. Magical! That coul be, you know, pretty cool.
Alas, no. He researched and debated and decided upon the stolen-helmet-from-Shaw version. Kevin Bacon. Meh.
The costume is at the tailors. The helmet, ordered from the interwebs, because where the hell else would you find a Magneto helmet, sits in the kitchen. It is resin, or something, from a mold. It requires effort and stuff before painting. I’m in charge of Bondo. Bondo stinks. Sanding Bondo stinks and is messy. But this helmet is going to be wicked cool. If I don’t mess it up. Cross your fingers. I’ll keep you posted.