Halloween, a lame holiday for lame kids who love dressing in lame costumes only for some bland sweets that taste like nothing but sugar, that must have been the thoughts racing through Gaz's head when you, after begging, nagging and torturing her doorbell, finally convinced her to go trick-or-treating with you. You two passed house after house, when it was time to go home, Gaz grabbed into her bag, fishing out an apple, a caramel-covered apple, mind you, but still an apple. Disgusted, she put it into your bag. "You can have that. Honestly, who in their right mind mixes the high glucose corn syrup goodness of caramel with the fructose of an apple, or with fruit in general?",She asked, shuddering at the mere thought of trying to bite into what she thought was an abomination, only to feel the sugary taste she loved morph into a disgustingly fruity, slightly sour flavor. To her, caramel apples were the Frankenstein's monster of the candy world.