Shurlacher spent much of the evening looking for clues.

Or saying things like "Hey Jimmy, my hammies are tight. Would you stretch me out real quick?"

At one point a 4 foot Dracula peeled off from the throng of kids and parents strolling down the darkened sidewalk outside, walked through the open front door, into their kitchen, looked up at Ugly Betty stirring chili with one hand and said: "Hey Missus C. I lost the group I was trick or treating with. I don't know where they are."

Ugly Betty, still stirring the chili with one hand, pulls a cell phone out of her skirt pocket with the other, punches in a speed dial number, says a few words to the person on the other end and then hands the phone to the tiny Dracula saying, "Here, talk to Tommy's Mom. She knows where they are."

Dracula says. "OK. Thanks," into the phone. Hands it back to Ugly Betty, never once seeing the costume for even a moment, says "Thanks Mrs C."

Later Shurlacher confides in me that he is not worried about playing the Cleveland Browns tomorrow at all. I point out that he is ah. . . injured, and won't be in the game. He answers "Ah yes, but I'll be looking for clues."

Later he puts on a Barry White record and his son asks, "Dad? Is that old people's music?"

Shurlacher takes a puff on his pipe and just grins.

Kitchen dancing and hilarity ensued.