Funny Halloween Costumes: Remember the Serial Vapist
Every Halloween some precocious child decides to split the difference between clever and concerning. Last year’s ignoble laureate in the funny Halloween costumes department was eleven-year-old Trevor Beasley, who appeared at neighborhood doors with three vape pens strung around his neck like war medals and a cardboard sign that read Serial Vapist. Parents froze mid-bowl. Dogs howled. One man dropped his Bud Light.
Trevor had researched the bit. “It’s a play on words,” he explained to Officer Landis, who had been summoned by a nervous Pilates instructor. “It’s social commentary. You know—America’s youth, nicotine addiction, wordplay.” His costume, he said, was “post-ironic activism.” The officer, who had never encountered pre-irony, told him to go home and put on something “non-felonious.”
At home, Trevor’s mother, a social-media strategist with a minor in semiotics, defended him. “He’s critiquing consumer culture,” she told reporters, “and also making a bold statement about cancel culture’s chilling effect on satire.” She later updated her Facebook banner to read #LetTrevorSpeak.
By November 1, Trevor was trending. Local news outlets debated whether his costume represented the decline of Western civilization, a gifted child’s cry for attention, or the logical next step after “Sexy Handmaid.” Vape companies offered sponsorships. Schools issued statements reminding students that “double entendre is not a free pass.”
Trevor, unfazed, retired the costume, saying he planned to go “as a concept” in 2025. When asked which concept, he replied, “Accountability.” Then he blew a mango-scented cloud the size of his future.
For more red-hot dispatches from a culture in decline, click here and duck for cover.
